𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

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Price is in his late thirties and entering forties. He’s been wanting to start a family for forever. You’ve had some pregnancy scares before and you’d see he would never get scared or worried, a small smile flashing across his beard framed mouth before disappearing.

He’d come up to you one day, simply asking you to start trying. You’ve been together for long enough right? He was practically shaking, wanting you to say yes more than wanting to breathe. Every time he’d see a baby he’d look at you with a small knowing look. Trying out multiple methods he’d read on the internet like putting a pillow under your hips and whatnot.

Definitely a girl dad. A big strong guy with a little girl is everything. He’d let her dress him up and put that kids makeup on him whenever she asked because he when he enters the room, fragile masculinity vanishes.

Very private and wouldn’t tell his work buddies a thing. Not about trying for a baby, nor having one later on. Why would they need to know anything about his girls?

Soap would need a bit more time. But when he feels that small want for a family, he’s whipped. First you’d notice he’s touching your stomach more and before bed he’d just put a hand on there. Eventually you’d ask him about it and he’d get embarrassed and tell you he just wants a baby.

Would be more of a boy dad. He’d be the type of guy to just start yelling and screaming around the hospital “It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” like the proudest man ever. Biggest dad ever and would take the boy to games and get him a lot of fake guns, which you’d sometimes oppose, though he’d just brush it off like harmless fun.

Would definitely tell everyone about trying. Unintentionally catching some off guard by saying how he and his missus are trying every night for about a week now or more, and would be until they have a bun in the over. Though it wouldn’t be long till you actually did conceive.

Gaz is the youngest out the lot, but he’d get the feeling pretty early. Still in his late twenties, either he’d make a joke about it, or a comment, but then start considering it.

He would seriously not mind if its a boy or a girl. Some people say that too but secretly bias one gender. He’s not like that. He just wants it to be his little baby.

He’d be a gentle parent. None of that yelling or screaming at the kid, just gentle. He has a patience of a saint, and he’d even encourage you to be as calm as you could. Would probably be the most understanding about what you would be going trough while pregnant, and after.

Wouldn’t say anything to his team, and would keep quiet about it. One day he’d let you show up with a baby on your hip, shocking them all slightly, but he’d just be like “Yeah i have a kid”.

Ghost is scared. One random day a thought came to his head and he brushed it off, but later when you came to him with the idea, he considered it. Until he agreed.

He is mostly like Gaz, and doesn’t have a preference. He’d only be really scared about his emotional state and would doubt his ability to give the kid that father-child relationship. Wouldn’t be scared to voice his fear to you, but you’d comfort him and tell him it was okay to be afraid. He was hurt like everyone else, and it felt so refreshing to him that he had you, a person who loved him, and now a little baby. Meaning his hands could be used for something oh so gentle, and not just handling firearms.

He’d hold the baby like it was made out of glass, and during your pregnancy and after, he’d help with anything. What you said was law.

Nobody in his team would know from aside Johnny maybe. He’d tell him since in his eyes Johnny seems the least harmless out the lot for some reason.

I am announcing that i will be switching accounts due to slight problems!! And if anyone sees this i hope you follow me on my new one where i’ll post about everything i already do here!!

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Angsty

Warnings: mentions of violence, trauma and death.

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Frank Castle is a scary man, but who said he couldn’t be scared?

Even if you’re not together at a time, he’d never tell a soul about you, terrified someone’d do something to you too just for the sake of hurting his feelings.

If somehow, his guys did find out, he’d go crazy.

He’d threaten them and say how you had nothing to do with any of this, being just a girl whom lived down the hall from his own apartment.

Sometimes you’d tell him how you like his facial hair, and he’d grow it out just enough to be a stubble, simply because you liked it.

He’d try and impress, though very rarely.

He’d want you to know he does “bad things” for the sake of good, but scared yet again that you’d look at him different.

He’s a sweaty guy. He gets sweaty in minutes and he despises it.

Is hairy. Chest, stomach, legs and between, everything.

Sometimes he shaves cause he thinks it looks unkempt, but you hate it.

He’s hygienic. Rarely skips a shower before bed, only when he’s dead tired or hurt.

One time, a man followed you home and you caught Frank in the hallway, asking for help. And later he found that man and beat him blue in some alley.

Violence was the only way of dealing with things that he knew actually works. Because you couldn’t talk things out with guys like that.

He’d sometimes call you over for simple dinner, so both of you’d feel just a bit less lonely.

He’d do small quiet things like help with groceries, leave small notes and messages for you, clean up after you when you’re tired, just to remind you he was there.

Is a good cook. He’s lived alone for quite some time, and he likes to show off his kitchen skills.

Secretly likes being pampered, especially if he comes home a bit purple here and there from a fight he got in.

A blue collar man. He’d work for anything if he wants it.

Hates fancy things and fancy people just as much.

Very respectful over personal space. If you don’t want to be touched, he won’t touch you. Or when you fight, he’d never raise his hand onto you. He was taught good.

He has that softie face, despite going around killing people for a living.

Perfect example of puppy eyes.

If he was a dog breed, he’d definitely be a bull terrier.

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This man has been trough hell and back.

Would take him a damn long time to open up, and when he would, he’d fall apart.

He didn’t have anyone to be vulnerable with for years now, and when he finally has it again, he makes use of it.

Often fears he’s a burden, or is too much. He’s so used to taking care of people and dealing with bad men, that he forgot he also can be taken care of.

Being alone is torture.

He spent years with absolutely no one, working, eating, sleeping. No emotional connection nor anything.

Poor baby will never truly stop having flashbacks and guilt waves.

When you’d lay in bed, rarely, he’d wake up with hushed gasps and teary, big brown eyes. Looking at you shakily when you’d try to calm him down so he wouldn’t get a panic attack.

When you’d get into fights, it would mostly be about your safety, or his. How he’d get hurt, or how you were “reckless”.

He was in the military also, and has pretty bad PTSD. No one gets out of that with no scars.

Sometimes would look over himself and his body in the mirror, remembering how he got each scar that marred his skin.

Genuinely has so much love inside him that he neither knows how, nor has anyone to it give to.

He spent years craving a simple hug, wanting comfort so badly, but feeling like he doesn’t deserve it. The first time you hugged him one day after you just had a pretty deep conversation on his old leather couch, he started crying.

Can’t really explain how much pain this poor man has probably felt in his life, and after killing the man who hurt him most, and his late family, he felt like he no longer had a purpose in life.

Has immense survivors guilt, and sometimes used for wonder why he was still alive in the first place.

You saved him, in every sense of the word, and he feels so horrible that he can’t give you himself fully at first, until he learns how to.

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an:I genuinely can’t express how much he went trough, both in the army and as punisher, and if he were to love again, he’d need so so much time and patience. He wouldn’t be some rough mean guy to his lover. He’d be gentle and scared. I absolutely dislike when people make these poor traumatized men out to be some mean rough guys who hurt their partner and are toxic like oml pls no.

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Mostly fluff

an:little bit of this, little bit of that

Warnings: Joel yelling, almost being bitten, age gap.

Words: 2.392

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It was one of the worst and gloomiest days of November, and yet you still decided to go out with Joel just to sweep some nearby area, and maybe even find something in the process.

He wanted you home. Yet you could sometimes be so stubborn, feeling the need to go with him just to know he was alive and well, seeing him more important than you.

You didn’t know why you felt this way, towards a man who was oh so kind, and yet so dangerous. This town saved you, and you didn’t dare ask for more, but you just liked him.

Finally, it was around noon, and as it appeared, there wasn’t much snow. You packed a bag with things you most needed, and some food just in case. Then both of you got onto one horse and rode out.

It was a secret, and just a tinge embarrassing..How you always rode behind him, and always tried to subtly feel him more. Your hands resting on his front and chest, touching his worn out button up shirt, or your cheek against his back while “being tired”.

He never said anything, ever. Because he knew damn well he liked it just as much as you did. He hasn’t been in a serious relationship ever since his late daughter’s mom left him, and that was whole twenty something years ago. You made him feel nice, new, whole even.

Both of you felt some kind of a parental feeling, but it was much deeper than that.

He steered the horse all the way, all until you finally came to that place. It was a retail building. Something alike a small shopping center.

Among them was a music store, and you knew Joel absolutely loved it. He even had an old salvaged vinyl player at his house back at Jackson and loved playing either cd’s or records besides his own guitars and making up his own songs.

He helped you down, and you felt that soft crunch of thin snow beneath your boots, and you timidly asked. “Joel?”

Getting a simple grunt in return.

“Do we have to sweep the whole thing?”

“Well most of it..” He said.

“You don’t gotta do it hon, You can stay right here with d’ horsey..I don’t mind,” He said in a thick southern accent and gruff voice, as he secretly hoped you’d actually stay here and not go along with him to get in any trouble.

“Thats not why i came.” You said bluntly, and he sighed. “I can take care of myself, you know that right? Don’t need you to worry bout’ me..”

He never wanted to be the reason of your fear or worry, since everyone has gone trough so much already.

You just nodded trough his talk and said “Can we go to the music shop?” walking on.

“Sure..” was all you got.

Going trough some stores was mostly safe or empty, but there were a few runners and clickers, nothing you couldn’t take care of. Finally arriving at the music store.

There was this sense of safety since you already went trough most of the place and you felt your guard go down, feeling like there was already no infected here simply because you got rid of the other ones.

Joel stepped and walked around, idly looking at some of the country records he could perhaps take home.

The store was half full, knowing if people passed trough, records and cd’s weren’t in need. They weren’t food or medicine.

So you had enough of them to pick and choose.

Your steps were quiet, walking over the creaky, dusty floor boards and your hands gently tracing the covers of cd’s on the shelf, imagining how it was all before the world went to hell.

But all that was quickly over as a pale grayish hand knocked over some cd’s onto you and grabbed you trough the other side of the shelf, you yelled from sheer surprise and soon to follow, fear. It pulled and pulled as a sound gurgled from its throat and your hand was oh so close to the teeth that were opening and closing over and over again.

It was scary. You thought that was it, as you tried to pull your hand away, but it only grabbed higher onto your forearm and upper arm.

“Joel! Joel fuck..! Please help me, over here!” you yelled like some kid in danger, knowing after all you were here with him just to soothe your worries, not to fight or kill many.

Joel flinched at the sound of the shelf shaking and you yelping, and he immediately dropped what he was holding. Running to the other side of the store, and shooting the infected, his chest heaving.

You fell back and your rear hit the floor as you looked at your thankfully clean hand, scared and shook.

He rushed to you and just grabbed you, asking. “What happen’? Did it get you? Let me see.”

As you protectively held your arm to yourself for no particular reason, he grabbed it and pulled it towards him, looking over it just to see some red spots of skin, where the infected grabbed you in a deathly grip.

All that was going trough his head was, what if you were alone? what if he wasn’t there to save you? how could you be so careless?

You looked at him with a slightly worried look, guessing this probably set him off. Knowing he wasn’t happy with you coming in the first place.

He was selfish. A selfish bastard, that his only thought at this moment was, what would he do without you?

As he straightened up and looked around, making sure there was no more dead that could jump out at the two of you.

Pulling you along by your other arm, so you stand up, and he straight up rose his voice.

“This is exactly why i didn’t want you coming!”

You staid silent.

“That thing could have bit you, and what then? What then!”

“Tell me!”

He didn’t mean to yell. He was scared, not angry.

As you muttered. “Joel i’m fine-..”

“You could have not been.” He said straightly, immediately cutting you off. You could see the slight fear behind his grayish eyes. The way his lips slightly frowned, that scruffy peppered beard framing them. His thick eyebrows shifting slightly up with each sentence.

When you were little, even when you had a safe space, it wasn’t exactly safe. It wasn’t safe from the man you knew in your family. An angry man.

And this? You hated this.

Saying in that same timid voice. “Joel please..I wasn’t looking, i just-, it won’t happen again.”

He just looked at you. Silently imagining how he’d ruin the world if you actually got bit.

And he said in a low meaning voice. “Come on, we’re goin’ home.” grabbing your arm and pulling you along to get out of the store.

But only then when you came to the glass doors, did you see that snow was winding up outside and slowly starting to howl.

He staid silent for a moment, before saying.” We gotta find somewhere safe, and we ain’t stayin’ here.”

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The ride was silent, but still slightly chaotic from all the snow getting into your faces. It was about an hour until you found a cabin and a garage where you also set the horse to rest, you went inside and made a fire. Always carried a metal lighter with you and could easily light it.

You warmed up by him despite acting upset, knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. Neither would he.

As he eventually turned his head to you and broke the tense silence that sat with you two for the past two hours or more.

“‘M sorry.”

“‘M sorry i yelled. I got scared and..” He trailed off and looked back ahead of him. His own hands fidgeting as he looked around.

Your eyes finally found him and you said.

“You didn’t have to scream at me. I was scared too.”

He just looked back at you. Silence, again.

“You mean a lot to me..a lot. I just started thinkin’ if i wasn’t there, you’d..” his words got lost yet again, not even wanting to say it aloud. But you answered. “But you were there. You were there, and thats the reason i went out in the first place. I don’t go out by myself..”

He nodded, knowing you were right, you went outside Jackson only when you felt like you had to. Since he knew you have been through a lot out there before coming to Jackson, and finally you found a safe space.

“Yeah, i guess i was..” was all he said, looking back ahead at the fire.

His eyelashes framing his eyes as he looked at the only light in the room, he was so torn.

He wanted to say something. To let you know every single thing he felt about you, but he was so scared he’d creep you out or seem weird to you.

It’s the worst when two people feel and think the same exact thing, preventing them from knowing the fact that they love one another.

You gently leaned your head against his hard shoulder as a small sign of forgiveness. Silently telling him it was okay. And he muttered. “But i ain’t having you goin’ out with me no more..”

“Joel just let me have a peace of mind when you’re out here.”

It was everything you ever thought you’d never have.

“Why do you worry so much?” was the question that changed everything from that point on.

And you said. “Why did you yell at me back at the store?”

It was simply answering his question, with a question.

Both of you were scared. Terrified even.

That was it.

And he realized, if you felt same in that sense, maybe you somehow could feel the same in the other.

His hairy hand coming behind you and sliding along your lower back and to your ribs, as he leaned his face just a bit to the side. You felt the touch, it was gentle and hopeful.

He was an older man who was starved of gentleness and any kind of touch that didn’t hurt him. And so were you.

You let him. Let him in. As you leaned into his chest, mostly smelling that strong musk of some kind of wood he always messed with at home, and his natural smell. His old leather jacket was slightly warm from the fire, and your hand went under it to touch his chest through his shirt. Your fingers and short clipped nails fiddling with the buttons as the side of your face rested against his collarbones.

He hugged you close, his chin touching the back of your neck, and the hot air from his nose warming the skin of your nape.

It was everything you ever needed.

“Thank you. For saving my life.” you just said. Feeling as if you were overreacting a bit, but you also knew, if he wasn’t there earlier, and you did get bit, you would probably be dead by now.

Feeling a bit bad now for acting all pissy with him because he yelled.

He just nodded and grunted.

Your hand still under his jacket and gently tracing over the clothed warm skin.

It was a new experience to you, since the most of your life before Jackson spun around staying alive and surviving, but never actually living and loving.

He then broke the silence, saying. “I would never let anythin’ happen to ye..you mean too much to me.”

“How so..?” you asked a bit more purposefully, your fingers tracing a gentle pattern over his old worn out shirt.

He paused, feeling slight conflict between just saying it out, and keeping it in.

As he muttered. “You know..I want you safe, sound. Didn’t want you out here in the first place, but you’re so stubborn..”

“Im not stubborn. I just feel the same way you do.” You cleared. Slowly both of you were realizing it more and more. How stupid you must have been to think that there could be nothing more than just simple care between you two. You wanted to give him that safety too, that feeling of being home and knowing you are loved. The feeling of warm clothes and home cooked food, which was for you, pure love.

“You have no idea what i feel darlin’..”He grunted, giving your head a small caress over its back, slowly sliding down to your hair covered nape.

You shifted your head just enough to look up at him, and give him that small confused look. Making sure to keep close to him for “warmth’s sake”. Saying in that familiar tentative tone. Not wanting to leave it unsaid, but not wanting to make him uncomfortable either.

“What if i just might?”

His eyes lingered on you for a second to long, a thick eyebrow going up, as he leaned his head down just a bit. In that very moment, when you realized what he was insinuating, you felt the need to meet him halfway. Your head also leaning up, inch by inch, as if with every centimeter closer, you both were making sure the other was alright with this.

Until his mustache grazed your upper lip, tickling it tenderly, as you finally kissed. His hand coming up to cup your jaw, as your hands staid where they were. Either gently holding his shirt, or the tips of your fingers touching over his collarbones and chest with a touch that was feather light.

The kiss was slightly starting to go from a closed mouth kiss, to a more intimate one. You’d kiss, pull away in just a second, and lean back in for an another mouthful. And just like that, over and over again.

Until you finally decided to break away and give him a small smile. His eyes looking over your flustered face, as he smiled even more when he saw you slightly reddened and lips, knowing his own probably looked the same. as he said.

“Well i guess you actually weren’t lyin’..”

“I never lie..” You replied.

Im gonna crash out look at him

He’s def hairy as hell, all natural. Why in the world would he shave?

After he finally retires, he moves to a secluded farmhouse or cottage house in the mountain. He lets himself go a bit, mostly just indulging into your cooking a bit too much. He’d usually work out his arms and back, still strong as an elephant. Though having a small pudgy layer never hurt anyone right?

All that muscle just reminded him of all the hard times either way. Sometimes he’d get insecure, remembering how he used to be all solid on the midsection, and starts doing some other new workouts at home. You catch him one day, and he looks at you like a teenager working out in their room, and suddenly caught by their mom.

You always make sure to let him know how much you adore him like this. He appreciates it with all his heart and shows it.

John Price x Fem!Reader

Part 2 on my new account!!!

an: Price courting you in late 1800s to early 1900s, I thought about it and now i can’t unthink it..Generally all cod men in this font seem so yummy and maybe i’ll even write smth on others.

Warnings: just a teeny tiny age gap(early20s/late30s), slightly toxic family.

words: around 1.700

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Imagine yourself as a sweet, gentle young lady whom caught an eye of the slightly older, rougher Captain.

He was a lone man, all his life living alone in his home. No family, nor wife.

One night he saw you at a town gathering and never forgot you. Your face, your dress and the way your feet clattered when you walked past him and spared him a single look. His mustache spreading as he gave you a small smile, his hat clutched to his chest as he watched you ghost by him. You were always taught to be polite to strangers..

But this man also unfortunately caught your eye as well. Formal clothes, cigars that’d fill the room, thick bushy beard.. He was a man after all, not some boy.

He came to you one evening, all “confident” with shaky hands.

“Excuse me Miss?” was the first thing you ever heard come out of his mouth. The thick mix of country and British accent on his tongue as his voice was slightly raspy from the cigars he smoked all his life. Boys and men your age never really approached you. But he did. Maybe it was fate..

After talking to him and talking, you realized how quite kind he is, despite lots of townsfolk saying he was a “bad man” or just a title of his job, a shell.

You were unfortunate because..what would your family even think of this? Your father, being about ten years older than the man, maybe even less. What would he say? Would he scold you? Call you names? Or would he approve..? It was all a bet, a bet you thought you couldn’t place.

You loved your family, oh you loved them so..

But when that single talk with the man turned into two, and then tree, and then an invite to tea?

Then came the small letters and words of something you couldn’t quite place. A small timid attempt at flirtation on paper, because he knew he couldn’t say any of it aloud to your face. While your eyes would look at him behind those straight eyelashes, and the smile that would probably follow after he’d say it. He couldn’t bear it.

Once even, you danced with him at one of the town celebrations this month.

“Would you spare this poor man a dance lass?” he would ask, smiling, his full cheeks puffing up slightly when his lips would tighten, as if utterly disarming him.

Afterwards, getting a letter about how your steps were so delicate, despite you stepping onto his shoe more than once.

That same night your mother saw you, and told your father, and your father, well..all kinds of questions left their mouths.

“Who was that man?”

“Where do you know him from?”

“Was he bothering you??”

“It’s not appropriate to talk with strange men unchaperoned!”

On and on, until you snapped. Spilling all the cards on the table which made the situation pause. Silence was so loud, and your mother spoke. “You knew that man?”

Their faces were worried. Their young daughter that was soon supposed to be out in the field looking for a husband, had been seeing a man decade senior to her, behind their backs? What would that even mean?

Your father was a doctor, and your mother a housewife, nothing flashy. But you had it good. Were you willing to trade that for him? You didn’t know anymore.

But when you’d try and sit with your thoughts, all you could think of was how he held your ribs and waist while you danced, or your forearms and back. His hands were rough, but he tried. For you. He never really tried for anyone before. He thought nobody would want a broken man like himself. Someone who was only born to hurt and give out orders. Yet you saw him, you saw past all the medals and honors, the clothes and frowns, yet he was worried you wouldn’t be able to see past your family.

Today was a soft spring day, and the past six or seven months were the only parts of your life when you felt like you’ve actually lived.

You hadn’t spoken to your sweetheart in a few days, simply because you needed time to think. You knew he was doing things of courting nature. Dancing with you, taking you to tea, sending you letters and complimenting your hair.

In the meantime, he was worried. He hadn’t slept properly, since you didn’t answer any of the letters he sent you. He came to the point of worry called “showing up at your doorstep”.

Talking and sorting things out with your parents felt like the best idea at the moment.

Your father was confused when he opened the big wooden door only to see an another man standing there, but your mother recognized him from that night she saw you two together.

They talked. Fought back and forth, until they decided to push this all on you and call you down from your room.

When you walked down, you were in some house clothing of yours, completely unaware. But to him you looked even more sweet in this state, slightly tousled hair, and a simple dress. You.

Too forward and a tad too soon.

When you realized what was the reason of this commotion downstairs, you looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You looked at him in slight shock, asking. “What are you doing here?”

His voice was slightly agitated from already trying to make your parents understand he would do his best to make you happy.

“I came because you weren’t answering any my letters and.. and i was worried you forgot of me..” He was so worried your parents might have changed your mind about him.

Shaking your head, you looked at him, wanting to reassure him. But before any words could leave your mouth, your father asked something very serious.

“Do you love this man?” His voice straight. As if daring you to say yes and see what happens.

In your father’s eyes, this man worked as a Captain, and despite the stable income, he couldn’t make me happy.

“Don’t do this..” You muttered. Trying to coax your parents to stop being so irrationally upset.

John’s heart was in his throat..but he managed to argue.

“I swear Sir, i have a home on my name, money, i can pay a dowry.”

He never spoke to you of anything about marriage. And now he was speaking of paying a dowry, meaning..

Your voice said timidly. “John what are you talking about..?”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and some kind of hope, as he said. “I want to marry you. I haven’t said it, but i thought i’ve made my intentions clear..” Oh so gently grabbing your hand, as he kissed the knuckles lingeringly.

Your mother looked up at the three of you from her sitting position on the sofa, her hand leaving her face, as she realized how serious the situation was. Her daughter was being courted by a man they didn’t see fit.

Simply because she was happy with him wasn’t enough. And your father bit. “I will not let you have such relations with my daughter under my roof.”

You paused, realizing what that sentence meant. As you muttered. “Father please don’t do this..”

“This is not fair..Just because your union was arranged doesn’t mean i will suffer the same thing..!

Then you could hear your mother’s voice add a very unwelcome agreement to your father’s statement. She was always in his shadow.

After a while of arguing and contradicting, you heard.

“You will listen to your father. We care about you, just think about your future.!”

Finally you snapped. “What future? To have the same fate as you?”

Just then you realized what you said, and both your mother and father paused. At least it was true. Your mother was always in your father’s shadow, slaving away around the house while he simply brought money home. The whole reason she was married off to him was the income stability, and family agreements, no love mentioned.

“I will not hear another word from you! You ungrateful young lady..” Was all they said.

You knew they had the same plan for you, but you dreaded it. Dreaded being tied down to a man you didn’t even love, for the rest of your life. A pure nightmare in your eyes. As if love was a streak of light in your life that you were prevented of reaching.

They screamed at you to go back upstairs, Yelling how you had no say, and told John to leave.

You were crying your poor little heart out in your bed. Feeling like all hope was lost. And that simple fight, and fact that they were ready to rip away the single thing that made you feel happy and loved so easily, made you realize that John was the right choice.

A week later, you met him in town again. As he asked a very very serious question.

“Run away with me.”

Telling you he loved you, and he couldn’t live nor breathe without you.

It was fully your choice..and you knew you wouldn’t let the opportunity of your life slide right past you.

In mere days, you were gone, and you got married in a church. Your dress was sweet and perfectly fit your personality as well as body. Not many people were there, just enough witnesses for the whole ordeal to go through.

This man now belonged to you, by law, and so did you to him. More you to him.

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John as a husband in the late1800s/early1900s>>

-He would probably be a kind of husband that was old fashioned. He’d keep you safe and wouldn’t let you handle some things without his help, saying how you “shouldn’t worry yourself over the matter”. But still he’d let you study and educate as much as you wish. He had enough income to support both of you and more.

This is the most supermany superman i’ve ever seen compared to the comic.

Movie was literally so beautiful and full of hope we all needed to see.

I can’t be the only one who thinks he looks painfully better with all the hair and beard??

The more rugged the better

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Price is more of a traditional man. But when it comes to stuff like that, he could.

At first he’s hesitant and a bit embarrassed, worried what would you even think if he sent you a picture of him shirtless, let alone anything more.

What if you didn’t like it? What if you thought it was weird? What if you didn’t like that he was a bit pudgy??

He would end up sending a simple close up shirtless pic and would be sweating bullets till you answered, but u loved it?

Soap is literally shameless. He likes you and he’ll for sure show it. Whether thats visiting you or getting you small stuff you like, or sending you a topless pic late at night.

He is a kind of guy who isn’t afraid to try out new things and would do anything to make his partner happy. He has that strong masculinity and no amount of anything can damage it.

He’d send you flexing pictures and suggestive comments about how he feels at the moment, or how he misses you.

So yeah, if you even mention it, you get it.

Gaz would be slightly more polite and maybe a tinge paranoid.

If you haven’t been together for long, he would be mostly reluctant and make some kind of excuse. He wants to make sure he can fully trust you.

But if you’ve been together for a longer period of time now, it wouldn’t be a problem to sneak a pic or two. Though sometimes he’d tease the living hell out of you if you asked for pictures.

Ghost isn’t really a type to do that. He is more of a bark and bite type of guy. And he’d rather come over and show you instead of sending you any photos which he personally thinks are a bit dumb.

Its not that the others aren’t taking action, but to him its just unnecessary teasing. Why see something you can’t have in that same exact moment and then yearn for it like a fool?

You can go get the real thing.

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Unrelated to my beautiful men i usually write about, but i think i’m literally the ONLY person who gets this bs happen to them and i need to share it.

I left for a week and my cat was with my stepdad, and when i came back my boy cat was all weirdly oily. He sometimes gets oily on his tail but thats it. His WHOLE back was oily now. And omg i jst found out why

You know those oily paste things cats eat to better process swallowed hair or whatever, and it gives them better digestion and stuff? Well my cat has a pea size of that every morning, and he didn’t wanna take any from my stepdad while i wasn’t home. So apparently he RUBBED THAT ALL OVER MY CAT’S BACK thinking the cat’s gonna lick it off and get it into his system..omg..brooooo

You were in your early twenties and was still a rookie.

But recently your dearest captain told you that you and Soap would go on a spying mission together as civilians. It was a rich party, with all the pompous, arrogant and out of touch people. Hoping to see if they had any intel about recent drug smuggling and get any word you could out of anyone.

Plan was, act like a loving couple, mingle, make people let their guard down, and catch them say something valuable.

Soap had been harboring something for you not even he understood, and this was a perfect opportunity for him to act on it without him being scolded or told off.

You put on some dress and small heeled shoes, while he had on a suit and a bud inside the jacket. You two drove and went inside. The moment you came, you saw all kinds of bad people, men showing off their wives or girls like trophies, or women laughing at anything a rich guy said.

It was funny in a way.

But Soap beside you, didn’t pay them any mind, his hand on your waist, gently kneading at the skin. You let it. Walking over to the table with drinks, before some men came to you and introduced themselves. The story went, Soap was a son of an important man who recently passed away, and now you two came to town to see what all the fuss was about. He inherited his father’s money and responsibilities. And they ate it all up.

Eventually the men ended up blurting out something about drugs, Soap chimed in to say how he used to do them a few years ago, and would be nice to try again sometime. A lie. But it was worth it, simply to make them more comfortable with the two of you. And you got all you wanted. A word, a name and intel.

After a few lies about being tired and feet hurting, you two were off to a hotel room that the team had booked for the night. The elevator seemed smaller and claustrophobic, as you stepped away from Soap. Gently reminding him that all that happened in the party hall was an act and nothing more.

Half a year. Thats how long he’s spent on trying to do something, to get your attention or impress you. Get you to like him. But you were scared since you knew it was off limits to pursue a romantic relationship with colleagues.

The moment you entered the room, you both felt out of place, awestruck by the mere rich smell of the space. Not to mention the furniture and materials, as well as walls and decor. And lastly the two beds that awkwardly sat by the wall on the other side of the vast area.

You groaned and sat down on the edge of your own bed, kicking your heels off, as you heard him speak, despite being quiet for an odd amount of time for his persona.

“Sou..two beds huh..”

You could feel that awkward flirting fill the air, something he always did when you two were alone together. He was usually a cocky, shameless man, but somehow you made him awkward and slightly careful with his words.

“John don’t..I’m pretty tired..” you said.

As he added..”Aye..Ah am feelin’ pretty tired as weel, mostly from talkin’ tae those arses..”

“Starin’ at ye like yer a piece of meat, even though ye said yer married..”

You just staid quiet..knowing that right now, it was you and John. No fake names, marriage, or acting. Whatever the hell was happening now was real.

“But ye looked very beautiful the night..very pretty.”

You didn’t know what to say at that point, he always ran his mouth like this to no end. Until he tapped the bed beside him, you just couldn’t resist anymore.

The moment the mattress dipped with your weight beside him, he suddenly fell quiet. You felt his hand slide your waist and pull you in. Your hand going over his freshly trimmed stubble beard. Before gently touching the side of his jaw and face, going up to his temple.

You were so gentle with him, and he loved it more than anything. He had been running around you in circles for months and now it was finally paying off. Totally forgetting the small mic in his vest.

Rubbing his nose along yours, his mouth went in and scooped up a single kiss from you. Seeing you were willing, he went in for an another, and another, and another.

Until your clothes were off and you were under the covers. His vest on the floor and the rest of the team back at base listening in pure shock. Kyle had left the room the moment he heard a kiss, while Price was the last one standing and listening in from time to time.

Soap knew what he was doing, and he made sure he was doing it good. He’s been waiting for this moment for months on end.

You scratched and wailed for him, your short nails leaving red angry marks on his upper arms and shoulders. Your nose in his skin, while he smelled like some rich perfume he put on, and sweat.

You let him in, and you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to speak by the end of this. His timidness completely wiped off the face of the Earth, and now it was just a man, a needy, desperate man who was moaning and groaning into your neck, not caring that someone could hear.

In morning you woke up early, him snoring beside you, as you couldn’t even guess how this would turn out.

Soap knew this wasn’t the last time this would occur, already planning on asking you to be his the moment he woke up.

Though after that, your dear Captain couldn’t really see neither of you the same..

————————————————————————

an: this is such a basic idea but it was stuck in my head for days

You’ve been with him for too long to not see how messed up he was.

The last thing you wanted was for him to get worse. But lately he promised how he would just do some paperwork and not go out to almost get himself killed, that was a lie. You were a young woman, and he was in his mid thirties which was also considered young, and you couldn’t bear him getting hurt or even the worst option. He would still come home late, tired, or hurt and you lately also started closing the bedroom doors for him when he came back because you were sick of it. A small way to show him it was you, or his job. You loved him oh so much, but he needed to quit, to resign, anything. And every time he’d come home late at night, you would already be sleeping in the locked bedroom.

Over time he would become friendly with the couch.

But there was no force enough for you to actually leave him, because you wanted to believe you were more important to him than his work, and he’d let you down every time. All until he actually resigned and proposed. Promised you some kind of a future.

He never slept on that damned couch again.

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

fluff/slight intimacy

warnings: smooching, touching, age gap(20s/50s), no use of y/n

Joel being a vanilla king

I’ve been thinking about him lately like crazy and i had to write one with sweet game Joel. Idc if its not gonna get much likes, i just miss my cowboy/ !english is not my first language!

A young woman, hurt and scared of the world she grew up in. Never even got to get a taste of the normality of the world before this hell. You came to Jackson about a few months ago. You were given a home and community, people, but never would you dared to hope you’d find something even more than that. Tonight he invited you to dinner, hoping himself that it wouldn’t be just that.

The sun had just set and the last rays went right below the horizon. It was dark.

You sat on the old wooden chair on his porch after you two ate two hearty bowls of stew he made just for you, hoping you’d like his cooking and show he was capable.

Now with the bowls empty, he took his guitar and began strumming some idle tunes before asking. “Got a song in mind?”

You just sat there and looked. Growing up trying mostly to stay alive, there was no time for you to enjoy the simplicity and the beauty of listening to music. Nor did you know many. The last time you heard music while outside Jackson was a few years ago, when you ran into a music shop with someone you were with. You just shrugged and said. “I don’t know much songs..” Your voice soft and kind of embarrassed since he seemed to love music oh so much.

As he began playing some song that first came to mind, you interrupted. “I do know that one song..i think it goes like, The world was on fire..” you sung slightly, trailing off as you didn’t remember the rest, and just hummed some broken notes of what your mind could bring back. That was the song you heard back at the ran down music store a few years back, and it staid with you.

He nodded along as you hummed and he said. “I know that one..it’s a classic, Wicked Game..” his rough southern accent making emphasis on the name of the song as if you’d remember it better.

So he began strumming it, his rough fingers, both from playing and from holding a gun, making soft sound of the song, as a big wave of nostalgia hit you. You said. “You’re really talented with that thing..”

He just smiled, his short beard framing his lips as he hummed along. And he said. “Well..more than twenty years of playin’, it does make you good sweetheart.”

That just reminded you how older he was. But you never minded, since he gave you that feeling of safety and in a way, fatherly sense..but if it was anything more, it’d be weird..right?

Eventually you stood up and picked up the two bowls, wanting to take them inside and wash them. As he asked. “Want to go on inside? It’s gettin’ cold for sure..”

Nodding you went inside first. It was September after all.

He sat down on the couch, his voice could be heard trough the room, as he said. “You don’t have to do that, i can take care of the dishes..”

You said. “You cooked, might as well help out..”

He just continued playing the song as you were in the kitchen washing up what was left, a completely domestic scene.

And eventually you came over and sat down by him. Asking. “Why’d you stop?”

“You don’t want me to?” he simply asked back. As he thought maybe you’d get to talk more now that you were inside. But you just shook your head and said. “You’re too good to stop.” a small smile on your mouth.

As he played some more, you leaned your temple against his shoulder and closed your eyes. Feeling the material of his casual but worn out button up shirt against the skin of your face. And he didn’t dare hope for anything, but he could have sworn he just felt something that had become foreign to him at this point.

You were young, it wasn’t right. He was a sad broken old man and you were oh so kind. But then he stopped. Putting the guitar down against the coffee table and looking at you, silent.

You opened your eyes and looked over, asking. “Whats wrong?” but he only looked at you. He knew if he did something, he might ruin things or he could make them a hundred times better. Or he could say nothing and regret them for the rest of his miserable life. He’s had enough.

His hand went up to your own and took it into his, as he said..”Y’know..i’ve been thinkin’ about sum stuff..”

“What kind of stuff?” you asked.

And he looked at you, and said..”Im gettin’ older..and i don’t wanna ruin anythin’ between us but i just can’t..i can’t stop thinkin’ bout you.”

You just stared. You secretly hoped for something, and yet now that it actually happened, you didn’t know what to do.

He continued. “Im sorry..i don’t know what i’m talkin’ bout..Im tired..” Hating for being so sudden with all this, and breaking a perfectly serene moment.

But you stopped him and said..”No..no no no..what do you mean? Talk to me.”

He just shook his head and said. “Im talkin’ nonsense honey..m’sorry..”

Shaking your head you said. “No..it’s not nonsense..It’s real.” As if trying to convince both him and yourself, still a bit shocked this was actually happening.

His head cocked just to the side to look at you, as if angling it a bit subconsciously. And you tried to say something next, but stopped. His face coming up in yours as you could feel his peppery beard gently against your lips.

He smelled like a sweet mix of musk, wood and sweat. It was the most inviting thing you ever smelled. Until he kissed you. Immediately tasting the skin, and the stew you had eaten maybe twenty minutes or half an hour ago.

But then he pulled away, his back straightening up rigid and you looking and blinking at him, as if unaware of what just happened.

His hand came up over his eyes as he muttered a small curse, and you didn’t see his eyes tear up. And he said. “Jesus Christ..what am i doin’.”

“What are you doing?” You asked back from what he said, continuing. “Are you doing something wrong? No..Let yourself feel it..”

As he knew you kissed him back when he initiated it. Meaning you must at least feel something.

And then he looked at you and said. “Im lovin’ you..thats what i’m doin’..And i can’t cus..i ain’t right for you..” he was a stubborn man. Looking at him, you could see it even if you didn’t know him. But you did. These past few months completely and utterly saved you. Saying. “Please look at me. Tell me you don’t wanna be with me..” You said almost daringly.

And he did. He looked at you straight in the face, but instead of saying anything, he just kissed you again. His slightly dry lips colliding with yours as you melted. Your hands going up to cup his hairy jaw, and kiss him back, as his hands went to your ribs and gently held you. Not holding you in place, or dragging you to him. Just holding you.

Until you pulled away and looked at him, a small string of saliva connecting you still until it snapped. And he said. “I want to. I want you, But I’m so scared dove..”

A big strong man like him admitting he was “scared” was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard in your life. As you just pulled him back in, and slowly you both leaned back on the couch. Your head against the old leather armrest, as he was all up in your space, his beard scratching at your neck as he gently held up your thigh to hook it around his straight waist.

He was flat out against you, as you felt that small about of pudge he had on his belly, reminding you he was human. A simple man who bared his heart to you.

His strong arms holding above you just enough not to suffocate you with his weight.

As you ran your fingers through his hair, the short and slightly messy dark black strands mixed up with white and grayish bending around your hands. You whispered. “I love you, you sweet sweet man..”

And he shot back huskily. “Im sweet when i ought to be baby. Js’ for you..”

One of his hands went down a bit while he gently ground his hips against your jeans, subconsciously and in a way desperately. Just the small contact against your jeans made him let out soft shameless noises. It had been so long since he had this kind of intimacy, and he was now older. Not as virile as he once was back in the day, but still managed to show you he wanted you no matter that.

You heard the soft sounds against your ear, letting out gentle gasps yourself along with hums. Not knowing if you should just let him in now, or wait for some time to just settle into this new relationship of yours.

His fingers going to unbuckle his old leather belt, when you stopped him. You decided. Whispering. “Hey..hey..Calm down, let’s not get ahead of ourselves when we just figured this out..”

“Baby..” was all he muttered. His tone soft and slightly hopeful you’d give in. He’d never do anything against your word and both of you knew that, but he was oh so touch starved.

Not wanting to go too far when you just got together. There was no shame in waiting.

Hearing your silence he just gently sighed into your neck and his hand went up again to brush your hair back blindly. As he said with a soft muffled tone. “Alright..okay..as you say, that’ll be..i’m sure i can wait, i’ve got plenty more left in me honey..”

He slowly let himself fall by you on the couch, smushing you against the backrest of the couch, and him. His arm going around your waist and pulling you close, tangling his legs with yours as his fingers idly went over your ribcage. He said.

“At least stay the night..”

“Stay every night..”

“You asking me to live here?” You asked quietly and in a way jokingly.