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marybethsjournal · 3 years

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Flaco’s Rules (Flaco x virgin f! reader)

Summary: You come back from a long journey without telling Flaco beforehand and he teaches you a lesson.

Word Count: 2624

Warning: smut (also the first time I’ve written smut so lmk if I should write more or not lol

Here is the story link if you prefer ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768013

It had been about a year since you and your brother had unofficially joined the Del Lobos. That was quite a long time to y’all, seeing as the two of you didn’t like to commit to other people, y’all had always rode alone. It wasn’t so hard to be an affiliate of the gang, however. You and Billy could go wherever you pleased and not communicate with the gang for weeks on end, as long as you brought money back to the gang and spoke to Flaco when you returned to the Grizzlies. The two of you weren’t exactly the typical Del Lobos affiliates, but you were quick and accurate with a gun and had never snitched before, so Flaco welcomed you and Billy into the gang rather kindly.

This time, you and Billy had been gone for at least a month. You hadn’t intended on staying out that long, but a heist led you to France and it had taken forever to travel there. Upon your return, Flaco demanded to speak to you and Billy. Flaco always wanted to hear from you after your trips but when the Del Lobos told you that Flaco needed to speak to you, they passed along that he was much more tense, almost angry, than usual. Not much scared you in this cruel world, but an angry Flaco did.

You and Billy immediately set off to speak to Flaco in his cabin. It was a very short walk from the rest of the cabins, but the fear in the pit of your stomach made you walk much slower than normal. Billy seemed to have the same feeling.

“What do you think he’s going to say?” Billy asked you.

“He’s probably mad we stayed out this long? What else does he have to talk about? Surely he’s not calling us in to have tea, Billy.” you replied with a shakiness in your voice.

This apparently made your brother quite angry. His face went from fearful to enraged in half a second.

“He doesn’t control us. He can’t tell us what to do. We will never be his workmen. We forge our own path.”

“I agree, but we accepted his offer of protection in the Grizzlies and he expects us to follow his rules, I suppose. Just try not to make a scene. I know how you are.”

“Fuck you, I’ll make a Hell of a scene. Just watch.”

“Billy, stop”

It was too late. The two of you had reached the door to Flaco’s cabin and instead of listening to you, your twin had bust through the door without warning. He always had been hellbent on destroying authority.

“Mr Hernandez, we do not have to answer to you! You think you are better than us but old man, you are far past your prime. In fact, my sister and I have racked up bigger bounties than you already. This superiority complex has to stop or else you will find a bullet between your eyes.” Billy word vomited at Flaco.

You had looked at Billy in confusion the moment he started talking. Superiority complex? Bullet between his eyes? What was this man talking about? Flaco eyes grew dark at the rude words and you cowered in fear, planning on what to do if Flaco tried to kill him.

To your surprise, Flaco began laughing. “Oh, the little boy think he can talk big to Flaco? He think he can scare me, huh? Puffing out your chest, thinking he is a man. You are pathetic. Leave before I shoot you, I will talk with the girl. She is more reasonable than you.”

Billy scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, old man?”

“Billy, go. You have disrespected him.” you said softly.

Billy huffed and puffed but he still ended up leaving.

“Now, what do you want, Flaco?” You asked. Your brother insisted on calling him Mr. Hernandez as a way of “keeping his distance”, whatever that meant, But you, well you had a sort of friendship with Flaco. You definitely had a soft spot for him. You didn’t feel anything but disdain for most men, but you liked Flaco. Maybe more than you would like to admit.

“You were gone for a long time.” he informed you, like you didn’t already know.

“I know, we didn’t mean to. We made our way to France for an art heist and we sure made you a lot of money. Would-”

“I was worried,” Flaco said softly, cutting you off. “I do not care about the money. Your cabron brother is right. You have big bounties on your head.”

You laughed lightly, not showing that you were taking his care for you to heart.

“We can take care of ourselves. Been taking care of ourselves for well over a decade, since we were very little.” you told him, looking at your shoes. You didn’t like to open up to people

“You will have to tell me about that someday. When you are ready. Anyway, don’t care much for the jackass. But you, I care for you. How did your trip go?”

“Fine, made out with a lot of money. Billy’s cockiness got us a bounty over there. That’s a first for us, being wanted in multiple countries.” “Sounds like him.” Flaco chuckled warmly.

“It was good besides that. Ate a lot of the native foods and saw beautiful buildings. I liked it there.”

“Did you find a French lover? That is what they’re known for, eh? Love?”

You laughed at him. “I think that is just a stereotype. I was too busy anyhow.”

“Too busy for love? You have a lot to learn, but you are young and Flaco is old, so it makes sense you are not as wise. Surely you had boys following you around, though? You are very beautiful.”

“I guess so.” you responded awkwardly. Truthfully, several men had followed you around during your time there, yelling things at you that you were glad you couldn’t understand. You assumed they were lewd. It all made you so uncomfortable.

Flaco sensed something was wrong and, not knowing how to comfort you, changed the subject, although not one you particularly wanted to talk about either.

“You did disobey your part of the deal, though. You understand that, yes?”

“The deal?” You asked. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“The deal we made when you joined Del Lobos. When we gave you our protection.”

Oh, that. You didn’t remember there being any specified deal, much less that you couldn’t leave for an extended amount of time, but Flaco looked angry so you decided not to question him further.

“Oh yes, I do. I’m sorry we broke the rules, Flaco.”

“Do not call me that right now. We are not friends. I am your boss. You address me as such. This is a serious thing you have gone and done.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” the term felt foreign on your tongue. You didn’t answer to anybody like this.

“Yes yes. Good. You two need to learn. Your brother, I’m afraid, I can not reprimand because he will make me angry and I will kill him. Poof, no more Billy. But you, I think I can handle you.”

Handle you? What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m not sure I understand. I really am sorry.”

“Sorry is not good enough. I have leniency because you are young and stupid. Any of my men who would do what you did? I shoot them. But you are grown, yes? Old enough to know better?”

You and your brother didn’t explicitly tell people your age for security reasons, so it was a valid question on his part, although you felt you definitely looked old enough for that generally to not be a question. But you were pretty young and you looked it.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be so friendly with you if I was just a kid. That wouldn’t be exactly safe.” You tried to laugh but Flaco’s eyes were narrow and so unkind in that moment that you decided against it.

“Good, then you won’t have a problem taking your punishment.” He smiled wickedly.

“What punishment,?” you asked. Flaco furrowed his eyebrows. “sir?” you added.

He smiled once again, but didn’t let his stern exterior go. He sat down on his cot.

“Lay here.” he patted his lap.

“Oh I don’t think so” you backed yourself into his door. Flaco stayed where he was and looked at you patiently. He wasn’t stopping you from leaving. This was entirely up to you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. You could feel the immense tension between you and Flaco. Finally, you walked over and bent over his knee.

“Fine. I guess this makes sense. I did break the rules.” You were mostly reasoning with yourself, not Flaco.

“No, chica. Pull up your dress. You can leave your drawers on.” The request probably should have offended you, but you felt heat in your core at the thought. You tried not to show this on your face, however, and pulled your dress up before laying back down on Flaco’s lap.

“Such a good listener, you are. Wish you would have listened to my rules the first time.” his hand rubbed your ass through your bloomers before striking it abruptly. You yelped in surprise. What was more surprising was that it felt good. You’d never been spanked before, this was all new to you.

“Flaco-” you started.

“Shhh” he brought his hand down again, hard. If he kept spanking you this hard, your ass would be stinging for days.

Yet he didn’t relent. He spanked you seven or eight times, each one harder than the one before. Despite your best efforts, you involuntarily started to let out strangled moans. You cursed yourself after each one. You were in trouble with Flaco, not having sex with him.

Flaco finally stopped and you assumed he was done. However, when you got up, Flaco pulled you back down by your hair. Ugh, why did that feel good too?

“You are not learning your lesson.” Flaco hissed, obviously frustrated, but at the same time it didn’t quite feel like he was frustrated with you.

“No I promise, Flaco.” he smacked your ass once more. “Sorry, sir.”

“I need you to pull your bloomers down.” he told you sternly.

“What? No.” You may be an outlaw, but you were still a lady.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna make you but-” you nodded at him, signifying that you were okay with it. You never thought you’d be doing this but for some reason, you trusted Flaco. Besides, you secretly wanted him to keep going.

Flaco was visibly confused as to why you had nodded but had made no move to pull down your bloomers. After a few moments, he took the hint and pulled them down himself. You immediately clenched your thighs together, praying that he couldn’t see how wet you were. That however, was a massive failure.

“I think you need to explain something, mi novia.” he said, in the meantime giving you two hard slaps on the ass.

“I don’t know what that means, sorry sir.”

“It means my girl.” he told you in a soft, husky voice.

You shivered at the words. You wanted to be his girl. You wanted it badly. And he seemed to be on the same page as you. He hadn’t done this because you did something wrong and he felt it strongly needed to be corrected. No, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

“I- well I liked it when you spanked me. I didn’t know I would, I’ve never been spanked before.”

“You’re inexperienced, huh?” Flaco asked, moving his hands from your ass to feel the wetness between your folds.

“Flaco!” you gasped.

“And expressive. I like that.”

“I’m just, oh! I haven’t done any of this before.”

Flaco pulled his hand back abruptly. He was silent and you, sure that you had done something wrong, sat up and looked up at him.

“You aren’t a virgin, are you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Ummm, yeah I am. I’m sorry, I suppose.” you got up from his lap and picked your bloomers off the floor, absolutely mortified.

“Wait, mi angel.” Flaco grabbed your arm. “It’s not a bad thing, not at all. I was surprised, is all. You’re a rough and tumble girl.” he laughed, but it was clear there was meaning behind his words. “Come back here, let ol’ Flaco make you feel good.”

You smiled and laid over him again, this time both of your intentions being clear.

“How about you sit on my lap while I help you? So I can see your face? That should be sufficient payment for the pleasure I will give you, yes.”

You would have jumped over the moon if Flaco had asked you to at that moment, so of course you did what he said and sat in his lap with your legs spread.

You never thought you’d be here, Flaco fucking you with his fingers in his cold cabin (although you felt anything but cold at the moment). You had dreamed of it, sure, but this was real life. You had never considered that Flaco had been attracted to you, but now as you felt his dick strain against his pants, there was no denying it.

Flaco fingered you at different paces depending on what he felt you needed based on your expressions. The higher and more frequent your moans came, the faster he went. When he felt it was becoming too much for you, he slowed down a bit, never losing his rhythm. He didn’t want to overstimulate you, at least this time. Flaco was good at this, surely very experienced, but you tried not to think about that. You focused on the feeling in the pit of your stomach and Flaco’s eyes, which were looking directly into yours. It was a bit intense, but it only added to the experience for you. He seemed to love it, biting down on his lip when you moaned particularly loud. At this point, his fingers were completely slick and you were fucking yourself back and forth on his fingers. The heat in your core was getting more intense and you were becoming desperate. You begged over and over for him to fuck you but he refused.

“No, angel, that is too fast. I have to come up with a way for it to be special.” More special than this? You wanted to protest but he kept fingering you the whole time, bringing you closer to your orgasm the whole time, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to argue back. Besides, a promise to get with Flaco again another time wasn’t so bad.

It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone. Between feeling Flaco’s dick strain against you through his pants and the swift rhythm of his fingers, it wasn’t longer before you threw your head back, moaning his name, and came onto his fingers. He smirked at the scene and kissed you quickly before removing his fingers.

“You were so good mi novia,” Flaco praised you, before adding, “Now put your clothes back on before you catch a cold. You need to stay warm.”

“We can- we’re gonna do this, again, right?” you asked Flaco after you put your skirt and underwear back on and started to walk out the door into the cold.

“Like I could go through this life without having you again. Silly girl.” Flaco told you before picking up a piece of wood off his table and starting to whittle as if nothing had happened.

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez x reader #f reader #flachoes

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reddeadrevival · 5 years

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Official “What I Write” Post

-Rules- (See a short FAQ here)

Please check if the ask box is open before sending anything in (It will be in the bio/description) and take a look at this post before too.

No Minors, this blog is 18+

If you are under 18 do not follow/interact with my blog at all or I will block you.

I don’t care if you’re a week away from 18, wait. If I see someone under 18 follows me I will block you. If I block you and you turn 18, message my main and I’ll unblock you.

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What I do:

Headcanons (See this post for the nsft-alphabet)

Match-Ups (See below)

Photo Match-Ups (See below)

Scenarios (Short Imagines/Oneshots)

When sending an ask:

I need more than just a pairing. I'm not a mind reader, I need to know what you want from me. Fluffy Headcanons? General Headcanons? Person A teaching person B "blank"? I don't need a whole plot but I do need something to work with. Don't just give me a pairing and tell me to do whatever cause I won't be able to.

If I don't get inspired by the ask, if nothing comes to me, I won't be able to do it. I don't want to force my brain because it won't be good content. That being said I will try my hardest before I give up.

If I can't do your request for whatever reason I will let you know either by message or by replying to the ask.

Do not send in your ask more than once or I will for sure not do it.

For Match-ups:

Physical description and some things you like to do/are interested in. Please also include sexual preference and gender so I know to match you with a cowboy or a cowgirl and what pronouns to use if needed.

For Photo Match-ups:

Send in a photo of yourself via submission (INCLUDE WHETHER OR NOT YOU WANT THE PHOTO SHARED IN THE POST. If you don't specify I will not include the photo in the post by default.) Obviously no need for description. See Above.

Please include who you would NOT like to be matched with (i.e. if you don’t want Micah as an option)

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Please note: I try to make my stuff gender neutral whenever possible (avoiding “she” and “he” and using “they” (or you) when I can unless a request asks for one or the other) Sometimes I write female only cause it’s easier for me, being a woman myself, especially with smut stuff.

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Who I write for:

🌟 means I think I'm better at writing these characters than the others

★ means I haven't written much for these characters (or at all) and don't know how well I can do them.

( ★ and 🌟 will change as I write more)

🌟 Arthur

★ John

★ Abigail

Karen

★ Tilly

Molly

Mary-Beth

🌟 Kieran

🌟 Micah

🌟 Bill

🌟 Javier

★ Dutch

★ Hosea

Sean

★ Josiah

Charles

★ Lenny

★ Sadie

★ Eagle Flies

Who I do not write for (could change):

Jack - any age (unless it's completely innocent I'm not writing Jack stuff)

Mr. Pearson

Miss Grimshaw

Uncle

Reverend Swanson

Leopold Strauss

Flaco Hernandez (nothing against him I just can’t write him)

I will write for pretty much everyone (if I can't do a certain character well I'll still attempt it still but I'll probably put a lil disclaimer about it).

I might do some of the above characters later on when I think I can write them better.

If anyone asks for an "everyone" post, the above will be included if I can think of anything.

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What I write:

Fluff

Smut

LGBTQ+ (♥️)

Poly relationships (more than 2 people)

Angst (this has moved up from the below list because apparently I’m good at being depressing, who knew XD)

Headcanons for AUs just specify the AU and what about it.

What I DO NOT write:

Non-con

Underage (Under 18)

Daddy kink (that just makes me super uncomfortable)

Watersports

Abuse

Incest (This includes Arthur/John or Dutch/Arthur)

(I may or may not add to the lists above as I learn of things I do and don't write about)

If there’s something or someone you want that’s not listed above send me an ask anyways and I'll let you know if I'll write it or not.

I don’t normally write for Character x Character, I mostly do Character x reader but that doesn’t mean I never do it.

I will do my best to write well enough and hope people enjoy ♥️

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Please note: There’s no guarantee that I’ll do all of the requests I get.

I am just one woman so it will take time for me to write when I have a lot in my inbox. I’m also human, sometimes I have no motivation or writer’s block.

#red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead #red dead headcanons #red dead fandom #headcanons #what i write #imagines #reddeadrevival

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neon-junkie · 3 years

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having sexual tension with Flaco and the boys in the Del Lobo gang taking bets on how long this is gonna last (love you Rat! thank u for being awesome )

I get SO carried away with Flaco stuff ;-; here’s a long list of headcanons for you, gender-neutral reader, but the Spanish pronouns are female! and thank you lovely anon<3<3<3

When you first started working for Flaco, you assumed he was a man with his walls high up, who wasn't fond of strangers, or unnecessary conversations.

He was blunt and straight forward with you, giving you your job, followed by your pay. Once the conversation was over, you'd be on your way; Flaco would never suggest that you warm up by the fire, or ask how you're feeling, etc. That's just how he was.

For many reasons, you continued to work for him. You're not bothered by the snow, and Flaco pays well, probably because few people want to trek up the mountains to do his dirty work.

But he's also... well, you know exactly how you feel about this man, despite his blunt responses and lack of interest in you.

Part of you thinks you'll be able to wear him down over time, slowly drawing out his personality, and hopefully something more. And if not? then at least you tried.

On the odd occasion, the rest of his gang will be camping beside his cabin. They seem to come and go as they please, probably being sent on missions by their boss, or trailing off to do their own dirty work.

The first time you ever met them, they pointed their guns at you and ordered you to state your business. They didn't believe that you were just here to work for Flaco, but he soon came out of his cabin, overhearing the commotion, and assured them that you're "a friend."

Flaco apologized for his men's behaviour, and they apologized to you directly the next time they saw you.

But the fact that Flaco called you his friend gave you high hopes, and motivated you to continue working at his outer layers.

Weeks continued to pass by. Flaco didn't seem very different, but his men had taken the time to get to know you, inviting you for a drink around the campfire, and sometimes even joining you on missions.

They nicknamed you 'pequeña lobita ', meaning 'little wolf,' as you're not quite a Del Lobo, but you're affiliated with them.

But one night, after a few too many drinks around the campfire, one of the gang members slipped up and told you the other reason why they call you pequeña lobita.

You've noticed how Flaco calls himself 'the wolf', and it must be a nickname that his gang members also call him; you're called little wolf, because he's the big wolf.

They tell you about how Flaco's secretly swoons over you; you obviously don't believe it, but the more they explain, the more you realize how true it is.

Flaco's closed himself off to you for many reasons: he's worried about making a fool of himself and messing up his chances, he thinks you won't go for an 'old man' like him, he doesn't want to waste your time, and so on.

They've teased Flaco before, making passing comments about how often you visit him, to which he brushes them off and barks at them to "mind your goddamn business!"

His gang continue being honest, saying that they've placed bets on how long it'll be until one of you finally bursts the bubble. They refuse to tell you how long they've all estimated, for obvious reasons, but you go to sleep that night deciding that you'll do something about it.

The next day, Flaco has work for you, and you instantly pick up on the signs of tension that you were too naive to miss: he's awkward, extremely awkward, his eyes refuse to meet yours, and he constantly fiddles with that same stick that he's been whittling for months.

Now that you're aware of Flaco's secret feelings, you feel yourself become just as awkward, struggling to speak and refusing to look directly at him.

"Are you okay?" Flaco suddenly asks, his eyes meeting yours for what could possibly be the first time ever.

You shrug him off, saying that you're just a little tired; Flaco doesn't take the bait, and rises from his chair, standing far-too-close to you, his eyes peering down at you.

There's a moment of silence as Flaco studies you, and he finally opens his mouth to say "my men always seem to forget how loud they get whenever they drink, eh?"

All the colour drains from your face, realizing what Flaco is indirectly talking about. "And it seems you can be pretty loud too, huh?"

You're lost for words, stuttering and sweating, a flustered mess. Flaco can't help but softly laugh at the sight, and you realize that this is the first ever time you've heard him laugh, and the first time you've seen him smile.

"I think you know what I'm specifically talking about," Flaco states with a chuckle, and you shyly nod along.

He lets out a soft sigh, and apologizes for a list of things: how foolish he was for not making his feelings known, how he didn't mean to play you about, how he should have done so many things differently.

But his words are cut short when you reach out to place your hand on his, giving him a soft squeeze, and reassure him that you're not mad - you're far from mad, you're glad that this has finally happened.

"Your job today is to let me get to know you, that is... uh... if you want," Flaco offers, and genuinely seems surprised when you lead him over to his bed, both of you getting comfortable, and finally having a proper conversation with each other.

Flaco confesses many things: the amount of men he's killed, what his exact bounty is worth, how long he's been on the run for, and so on. But the one thing he'll never confess is that he's the one who nicknamed you pequeña lobita .

He was drinking with his men one night, when they decided to question who you exactly are. Flaco let his personal nickname slip, and the teasing instantly began, to which Flaco scurried off, muttering about how he'll never drink with them ever again.

You never found out who won the bet, as all the men refused to tell you, but that's because Flaco won it and his men are too ashamed to say anything (;

#ive written some awkward flaco before and omg its my fave #the thought of big burly flaco blushing like a schoolgirl makes my heart melt #rdrwriting #rdrheadcanon #fluff #nsft-ish #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #flaco hernández #flachoes #flaco hernandez #flaco hernández x reader #flaco hernández x you #red dead online #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdo #Anonymous

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neon-junkie · 3 years

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Throw me to the Wolves

Summary: A few wrong turns and you're lost up in the Grizzlies, stuck wandering through the snow with your abusive partner. Until a derelict cabin comes into view, with a stranger inside who helps you, not just from the wilderness, but from your psychotic partner.

Pairing: f!Reader x Unnamed m!Partner, f!Reader x Flaco Hernández

Word Count: 8526

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of verbal and emotional abuse.

Tags: Abusive relationship, Trauma, Gaslighting, Angst, Breakdowns, Happy ending.

Notes: This fic started off as a request, but it just really hit home for me, so I had to pour a lot of my trauma out into this. There is a lot of content below that may trigger some people, with detailed descriptions of verbal and emotional abuse. This is a reader insert, but it's written from my personal experiences; the dialogue that is in italics are direct quotes from my abusive ex, and I decided to post this today seeing as I'm now a year free from his abuse!! yay!!

Some relationships can't be fixed, whilst others shouldn't be fixed. Which one is yours? Probably both, but for some reason, you're still willing to try, despite the lack of emotions you've felt over the last few years. It seems the 'man' you call your partner has drained you of almost everything - feelings, money, the will to live. But he's promised yet again that he'll change, and during one of those talks where he put on his happy face, and suggested a weekend away, somewhere remote where you two will have to work together to keep each other warm, and hopefully fix this broken bond yet again. There's a few small cabins north of Strawberry, the town that you live in, and from what you've heard, they're all abandoned. Strangers use them all the time for various reasons, usually shelter, and the particular one your partner has in mind is located at Barrow Lagoon. You've never been past Big Valley, not wanting to trudge through the thick snow and get cut off by the surrounding mountains, along with whatever gangs live up there. If you're heading for Canada then that definitely isn't the right way; and to nobody's surprise, you haven't taken the right way either.

"We should be there by now," your partner comments as you ride alongside a stream, heading up the steady slope. You have to bite on your tongue to stop yourself from sliding in a petty comment, knowing you'll only feed his flames, but your lack of reply makes his brows furrow, and he comments again. "Are you deaf? did you not hear me?" he shouts, his horse nickering at his raised voice. You're only a few meters behind, not far enough to not hear him... sadly... "What do you want me to say?" you sigh. "I know we went the wrong way, but you said we should go this way," you finally bite. Your partner snaps his head around to glare at you, spitting his words like venom. "Maybe if you'd stayed quiet then we would be at the cabin by now," he almost yells. So, he tells you off for being quiet, and then tells you off for not being quiet. Are all men like this? You can't help but let out another sigh; here we go again. He gives his horse a nasty kick and continues to ride forwards, yourself trotting behind; as always, you get that feeling in your chest. Well, it's somewhat of a lack of feeling, your chest turning numb yet heavy, your eyes just the same, urging to cry, but you've shed far too many tears to bother wasting any more. At least he's now ignoring you. The trail continues, and a settlement appears in your line of sight. It's clearly abandoned, the houses falling apart, each of them letting in an occasional gust of wind as they try their hardest to hold themselves together. You go to open your mouth, to suggest using this area as shelter for the night, but your partner turns to you and begins yapping away. "We're not staying here, I don't trust it. There's probably a gang hiding there, just waiting to ambush us," he tells you as he carries on, turning to the right and following the trail around the deserted town. It's possible that your partner is, dare you say it, right. There are no signs of life, but they could be hidden within the houses, or surrounding the area, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Your eyes gloss over the snow and you don't see any tracks, but there's no point arguing with somebody who has never listened to anybody but himself in his entire life. "Let's go this way, maybe it'll loop back down," he comments, his head remaining forward as he leads off the path, following a small trail. You only know it's a trail because the snow is slightly lowered, there's no specific hoof prints, but the snow has settled unevenly, meaning somebody has passed through here well before you. The path does begin to loop round, and you soon find yourself stood on a small hill, overlooking a run down shack and a frozen lake. You pull a face at the sight, turning to see his grin. "I told you we'd find it," he comments. "That can't be it... the cabin is falling apart, you said it the cabin is-" "-I know, but... I've never been so how am I meant to be certain?" your partner cuts you off, his voice raised and firm as always. "So, you're trying to take us away to a location that you've never even been to?" you roll your eyes. As much as you don't want to spark an argument, you can't help but point out his idiocy. "Well, my parents have been to it," he blabbers. "And did your parents describe it as a broken down cabin, with a shoddy outhouse, and some tents beside it?" He looks at you, a frown plastered across his ugly mug, but you're no stranger to that sight. From the way his closed mouth moves, you can tell he's biting his tongue, holding himself back as his cheeks continue to turn red. "Come on," is all he says as he orders his horse to head down the hill, attempting to trot across the ice. You, the sensible one in the relationship (though he seems to disagree,) take your horse around the frozen lake, watching as his poor mount begins to slip and slide across the lake, nickering every time he pulls at its reigns, as if that's going to make the situation any better. He finally reaches the other side, mumbling nonsense under his breath as he demounts his horse, leading them over to a tree and hitching them to it. You leave yours unhitched, knowing that there's no way this is the right location, and that you'll probably be walking out of that cabin within minutes with him on your tail, blaming you yet again for everything. Your eyes trail over the cabin again; the windows are covered, the glass still intact, but a sheet prevents you from peering in to check it out. The only way in is through the front door, and it eerily creaks open with a gentle push. No lock? that's suspicious, but you'll probably find it on the floor, seeing as this cabin is falling apart. You're slow to wander inside, observing the varied mess of crates and bottles on the floor. The cooking fire is out, and it looks as if it's not been used for a while, with what's left of somebody's mouldy dinner marinading in the cauldron. The snow falls off your boots as you continue walking into the cabin, stopping just in front of a small table; it's a mess, just like the rest of the cabin, but the candle catches your eye. That's when you notice the last thing you were hoping for, a sign of life, as the smoke is still drifting from it. You overhear your partner entering the cabin and as you turn to face him, the stranger appears from behind the door. "Don't move, hands up," he tells you, his gun in hand pointed at you. You have no problem following orders when your life is on the line, slowly raising your hands, but your idiot of a partner, who's barely a step into the doorway, attempts to peer behind the open door and shoot the stranger. There's a flash from the strangers gun, followed by your partner yelping and clutching his hand. The stranger has disarmed him, and done it with such speed that your brain can't quite process what's happened. "You moron!" He grumbles, clutching onto his hand and checking his injury. There's no blood, probably a burn at most, and the 'trauma' that he'll definitely use for sympathy points whenever he gets the opportunity to. "When I tell you not to move, then you shouldn't move," The stranger hisses, his voice deep and earthy. His gun is now pointed at your partner, who looks up at him and frowns. You watch as the two square up to each other, and you question why your partner can't just swallow his pride for once. He's attempting to stand upright, puffing out his chest at a man that towers over him. But the more the stranger steps forward, the more your partner finally begins to cower away, until he's backed against the wall with a gun pointing to his head. "I said hands up," he growls, and finally, your partner raises his hands. "Who are you?" the stranger asks. "Why's that matter? you're just gonna kill us." "I might change my mind. It all depends on what stupid move you decide to do next," he says with a chuckle at the end of his words. Your partner gives his name, followed by pointing at you and saying yours. "And what are you doing here?" the stranger then asks. "We were travelling to Barrow Lagoon, until this idiot here got us lost," he explains as he points to you again. You raise an eyebrow at his comment, and the stranger does the same. He turns to look at you. "You can lower your hands," he tells you in a voice so soft, the complete opposite to the roar you heard a few seconds ago. The strangers head snaps back to your partner as he barks "I didn't say you could lower yours!" Again, your partners hands are raised, and you notice that he's physically shaking. You soak up the sight, enjoying seeing him tremble as somebody begins to treat him the way he treats others, specifically you. "Idiot, huh? you always talk to her like that?" the stranger questions. "Well, she got us lost, so of course she-" "So, that makes it okay? you're the one who tried to shoot me moments ago, so I guess that makes you a lot more of an idiot, huh?" he cuts your partner off. Your partner doesn't reply, his head lowering as the stranger begins to laugh. "Well, say something," he comments. Your partner goes to open his mouth, but he's lost for words, looking like a scared puppy, making the stranger laugh even more at his cowardliness. For some reason, you step in. "We didn't mean to intrude, we didn't know that somebody lives here," you explain, taking a few steps forward until you're in the centre of the room, a foot away from the stranger. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to question why you're attempting to save this coward. "We'll leave now, if that's alright with you." "Smart woman," the stranger compliments you, but directs his comment towards your partner, "you should learn a thing or two from her, cabrón." "She's not," your partner replies. Really? this man has the audacity to argue back over your intelligence with a man whose pointing a gun to his head? The stranger looks at you once more, a look of disgust on his face, "does he always talk to you like this?" "-Hey, she's not speaking to you," your partner interrupts him. "She can speak to whomever she wants," the stranger bites back. He's about to turn his gaze to your partner, and you notice how twitchy his trigger finger is becoming. "Would you both stop?" you butt in, two pairs of wide eyes now looking at you. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to intrude," you do your best to apologize, reaching out to grab your partners arm and drag him away from the wall. "We'll leave, again, I'm sorry," you say, pushing him out the door, following straight behind. The stranger trails over, standing in his doorway, watching both of you whistle for your horses in an attempt to run away. His gun falls limp by his side, not holstered, but (unfortunately) no longer pointing at your partner. He stares at the ground, letting out a deep sigh before he calls out to you both. "If you're heading for Barrow Lagoon then it's too late for tonight, wolves surround this area, and they'll be on your trail before you make it back to Colter. You can take the tents for the night," he offers, using his gun to point at the two empty tents beside his cabin. "Thank you," you reply, letting out a soft sigh of relief. Neither of you had any idea about what wildlife lives up here, and you don't fancy becoming some overgrown puppies dinner. Your partner looks at you with a scowl, but you choose to ignore him, demounting your horse and finding a comfortable place to hitch them for tonight. The stranger doesn't say anything else, turning back into his cabin and shutting the door behind him. Now that the stranger has disappeared, your partner begins his scolding, and you can't help but zone out to it. As always, there's a string of insults, and it's obvious that he's desperate to try and blame you for this situation. You know you're not in the wrong, you know you did the right thing by de-escalating the situation and getting out of there, and you know that he knows he's the idiot, but some 'men' just can't accept their faults. There's no point responding to any of his blabbering, and he's right on your tail as you unpack, getting your things cosy in this tent, not bothering with anything he owns. You know that once he's finished berating you, that he'll click his fingers and expect you to unload his bags too, then he'll probably demand a hot meal and a back rub, as if you're his slave - not his partner. But then your partner says something that for some reason, always seems to get to you. It's a babyish insult, a word that really shouldn't mean as much as it does, but your partner has over-used it to the point where you shudder every time you hear the word. "You're so stupid," he insults you. "I know," you dryly reply, not even looking in his direction as you continue to get settled in one of the tents. "Such an idiot," he adds on. "I know." "You know what? Sometimes I wish you were a man, just so I could hit you." "Really?" you snap, stopping in your tracks to shoot a look of disappointment his way, not that it does much. "I do-" "-I'm surprised you already haven't!" you cut him off, "and I don't see how I'm the idiot here? I'm not the one who tried to shoot him!" "Why are you defending him?" he scoffs. "Because we're in the wrong; we stormed into his cabin, and then you tried to murder him!" Your partner puts on a babyish voice as he repeats your words, mocking you for... having common sense? "why are you defending him?" he questions again, and cuts you off before you can repeat your previous answer. "You're going to cheat on me with him, aren't you?" "What?" you stutter, in utter disbelief. How the hell has he managed to get to this idea? "I can tell you are, I know you too well, better than you think!" "You don't know me at all," you correct him. "Well, you haven't said 'no' to it!" "I'm not going to cheat on you," you sigh, although you should, he deserves it, and more... "You're going to cheat on me, just like all those times you have done in the past!" "You know I've never cheated on you, not unlike that time I caught you chatting up that woman at the Saloo-" "-That wasn't cheating! we've already discussed that!" your partner shouts, his face turning redder by the second. You let out a long sigh, your head beginning to pound from losing your final few braincells. "I'm done with this conversation," you state, and continue unpacking. He huffs and puffs, grunts and groans, and has the audacity to barge you out the way as he begins unloading his bags - at least he's not demanded you do it. There's an unspoken agreement that the tent is halved, and you're honestly surprised that he hasn't taken the other tent for himself, knowing what a drama queen he can be, especially after an argument. Whatever, this is fine, you'll be fine. You just need to get through tonight, and then you'll set off early tomorrow and head straight back home. Admit it, this relationship is done for; you've known that all along, you knew that the second you two had your first disagreement. Your mind runs through everything as you eat your dinner, munching away on your cooked can of beans, washing them down with a slug of whiskey as you and your partner sit in silence. ------------------ It's surprisingly peaceful up here; there's almost complete silence, complimented with the cracking campfire, and the occasional howl that you can hear in the distance. That stranger was telling the truth, there are wolves nearby, and you two definitely would have ended up their meal tonight. You thanked him, but you feel like you've not done enough... this stranger has saved you from wolves and the cold, selflessly offering a place to stay despite your partner attempting to murder him for defending his own home. Another tin of beans is opened and placed by the campfire to cook, and you finish up your own, carefully using a rag to pry the now-cooked can of beans away from the campfire. You wrap the rag around it, preventing the metal from burning your bare hands, and begin standing upright. "Where are you going?" your partner questions. "To give some food to that stranger," you reply. "Why? he tried to kill me!" "He tried to kill you," you correct, "and because he's offered us a place to stay, and saved us from wolves." "Whatever," your partner grunts, "you might as well kiss him whilst you're over there." You ignore his suggestion, although this is probably the best suggestion he's ever had. A spare fork is placed into the tin of beans, and you make your way over to his cabin, knocking on the door and awaiting his reply. He doesn't answer at first, so you knock a little louder. "What?" you hear a grumpy voice call out. "I uh, brought you some food," you sheepishly reply, now having second thoughts. Is this stupid? is it weird to offer this man a lousy tin of beans as your way of saying thanks? There's no time to think, and your mind goes blank the second he opens the door, looking down at you with a scowl on his face. Your cheeks turn red, and you suddenly forget that words exist, gawking at this man with a hot tin of beans in your hands. "You brought me food?" the stranger questions, his voice as soft as it was earlier when he was speaking directly to you. "Uhm, yeah... I uh," you pause and look away. Are you shaking because you're nervous? or because it's cold? "You didn't have to," he replies. "I know, and I know it's not much..." you reply, finally turning to face him, although your eyes remain fixated on the can of beans. "...but it's the least I can offer as my thanks for letting me- us stay," you correct yourself, instantly regretting it. Your partner hasn't offered any thanks, not even in words. The stranger lets out a soft chuckle, reaching out to take the tin from your hands. There's skin contact, there has to be considering he's scooping the rag up from your palms, preventing himself from being burnt on the hot metal, and for whatever reason, your head begins to spin. "Thank you," he replies, luring your eyes dart up to meet his. Yet again, you're in awe at how softly he's speaking to you. He's huge, a built and stocky guy, towering over you, yet speaking to you like you're a newborn. You study him, not meaning to, but it's hard to move your eyes away; he's slightly aged, an array of wrinkles covering his face, but still looks like he could easily take anybody on, and has the scars to show it. The loose hairs hanging on either side of his face compliment his appearance, and that thick coat he's wearing looks so warm, so... huggable... and you suddenly feel cold as you admire it. "What's your name?" the stranger asks. "What?" He laughs, "I said, what's your name?" "Oh," you wince. You give him your name, and in return, he gives you his. "Flaco," he tells you, "Flaco Hernández." "Nice to meet you," you politely reply, giving the back of your neck an awkward scratch. There's a moment of silence, and you watch as he stirs the tin of beans before scooping some into his mouth. "I haven't eaten in so long," he mutters under his breath. "I have more food... if you-" "-No," he cuts you off, "that's yours, not mine to take." "But you've helped me-" "-No," he cuts you off yet again, "you need it more than I do." "Alright," you softly shrug, deciding its best not to push your anything onto this man. Silence hits once again, and you don't even realize you're staring until Flaco makes eye contact with you. He's stood in his doorway, gulping down a can of beans, and you're watching him like a puppy awaiting scraps. You realize how uncomfortable this must be for him, and turn to leave, but the second your eyes trail from his, he speaks up. "Look, you uh..." Flaco pauses. He looks over to the tents, and scowls a little as he notices your partner sat there, minding his own business, pretending like he's never done any harm to anybody. "...you let me know if you need anything, okay?" "Okay," you nod, "thank you." "There's no need to thank me," Flaco tells you, his eyes wandering back over to your partner. "You should get back to him, before that baby kicks up a fuss again." Flaco grins when you begin laughing at his comment, moving your hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter, not wanting to fly any flags and spark up another argument when you return. "Go on," Flaco urges you, nodding his head in your partners direction. You flash him a grin before heading off, overhearing Flaco shut the door behind you. Thankfully, your partner doesn't react when you sit back down; you assume he didn't overhear the interaction, seeing as he's always so eager to jump down your throat at any opportunity. ------------------ The night remains quiet, well, quiet between you and your partner. Light snow begins to fall, and there's a slight breeze that you're certain will pick up throughout the night, and eventually, it does. You wake up shivering, violently vibrating, desperate for any kind of warmth. The campfire has burnt out long ago, and despite all the layers you're wearing, the tent can only provide so much extra heat, if any. You huff, watching the thick smoke trail from your lips, and roll over to curl up against the only other source of heat. Isn't it sad that you're genuinely afraid to cuddle your partner? knowing that he'll shove you off, that he'd much rather let you freeze to death than hold you throughout the night. And that's exactly what he does, almost a second after you wrap your arm around his waist. He lands a nasty nudge to your ribs, making you whimper. You press your hands to your chest, and gently rest your forehead against his back, attempting to salvage any kind of heat you can steal from him. He jabs his shoulder against you, hitting you square in the eye, and this time you vocalize the pain he's just put you in. "Why?" is all you ask. "I don't want you touching me," he murmurs, still half asleep. "I'm freezing here!" you snap. "Go and light the fire then." "I'm not going out there, I'll die!" He lets out an overly-dramatic huff, throwing the blankets off both of you as he sits upright. His hands flex, attempting to relax as he lets out a deep breath and shuts his eyes. As always, your partner puts a specific tone on, a belittling one, one where he's attempting to get the high ground despite knowing he's in the wrong. "I don't want you near me, alright? I need my space," he questions in a patronizing tone, hissing through his teeth. "I'm going to freeze to death, you're probably going to freeze to death too, I can see you shaking!" you point out as you also sit up. "Not my problem," he bluntly replies. "Sort yourself out, and I'll sort myself out," he shrugs, and lies back down, rolling over to face away from you. Like the child he is, he pulls the blanket away from you, hogging the entire thing as if to say 'fuck you, i'd rather you freeze to death!' You don't bother announcing that you're leaving, but you make sure it's obvious as you loudly pack your bags, swinging them over your shoulder and unfastening the tent flaps. Before you leave, you rip the blanket from his hands. It is your blanket, after all. He goes to grumble and yank it back, but you've already exited the tent, leaving the flaps hanging open - it's only fair considering he'd happily treat you the same way. Barely a meter away, you sit down in the other tent, dumping your bag beside you and instantly putting your head in your hands. Your partner hasn't bothered chasing after you, why would he? and you overhear him closing the tent flaps aggressively, because of course, everything he does just has to be aggressive. Another shiver escapes you, and your head rests on your forearms as you look at what's left of the campfire, burnt out long ago. There's no way you're able to re-light it, not when there's a layer of snow settling atop of it; the logs are damp and continue to worsen as every second passes. Face it, you're going to freeze to death out here! But an "oi!" perks your ears up, and you look at your surroundings, wondering where it came from. It's definitely not your partner, and you almost jump out of your skin to see the stranger, Flaco, half-stood out of his doorway, gesturing for you to come over. Did he... over-hear that argument? you're embarrassed, but you're also grabbing your bags and shuffling through the snow to him, stomping your boots as you enter his cabin and shutting the door behind you. "What happened this time?" Flaco questions. His tone of voice is so sincere, as if he's known you for years, and knows that this is a regular occurrence. "Oh, you know... stuff," you shrug, standing awkwardly on one side of his cabin as he settles on the other, sitting down on a well-worn chair in the back left corner. Flaco raises an eyebrow, and silently gestures you to get comfortable on his bed. You don't hesitate, slumping your bag down beside it, kicking off your boots and wrapping your blanket around your shoulders as you sit back, leaning against the cabin wall and turning your attention to him. It's warm in here, thankfully, a lot warmer than those damp canopy walls. Is it bad that you're getting a sadistic pleasure out of knowing that your partner is freezing out there? the fact that you're enjoying his suffering says enough about the relationship, and yet for some reason, you feel bad, as if you shouldn't be taking pleasure in his pain, despite knowing he takes much pleasure in yours. "Stuff?" Flaco repeats. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but Flaco is here to lend an ear, if you need it." The way he refers to himself in third person is sweet. You suddenly feel heat radiating off your cheeks, and you're uncertain if you're blushing, or if the heat is finally catching up to you. "I uh... I woke up shivering, and he wouldn't let me huddle for warmth with him." "He wouldn't?" Flaco almost spits. "What else did he do, huh?" "Pushed me away, you know, quite literally." "This uh, partner of yours.... has he 'pushed' you away before?" "I mean, he's shoved me off him many times. He's never physically hurt me, but I'm used to being literally pushed away." Flaco pauses, sitting back in his chair. One of his heels is bouncing, softly tapping against the wooden floor as his eyes dart around the room. He licks his lips before speaking again. "Well, we'll let him freeze out there, it's what he deserves for treating you like this." You laugh along with him - Flaco is right, this is what he deserves! but your laughter trails off as you begin to get second thoughts, as always. It's unfair, that you know he's a bad person, but you can't help but feel a little sorry for him. Is this right? allowing him to freeze out there? although you're certain that Flaco definitely isn't going to let him warm up in this cabin, especially after his attempted murder and lack of thanks. "You're thinking," Flaco states, drawing your eyes over to his. He's no longer leaning back in his chair, instead hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, quite obviously studying you. "Yeah," you confirm, "I just... I feel a bit bad, willingly let him suffer out there-" "-So what? it's clear that he's allowed you to suffer enough," Flaco cuts you off. He sighs, shaking his head and brushing a few strands of hair off his face. "Look, I haven't known you for very long, but it's obvious that... thing out there doesn't deserve you. Hell, he doesn't deserve to live, speaking to others like that, let alone a woman!" You stumble on your next words, as if the words don't want to fall from your mouth, probably because you know deep down that it's not true. "H-he does love me, and I guess... I guess I am stupid at times... and-" "-No," Flaco bluntly replies, gesturing with his hand to stop. "You've been brainwashed, chiquita. That's... that's not love, that's not normal. That's abuse," Flaco states. "Abuse?" you repeat his words. "I've... I've always questioned on whether this is abuse, and I've never heard another person say it. Our friends, well, his friends, they always say that I'm in the wrong, they always take his side," you explain. "Of course they would," Flaco laughs, "they're his friends, not yours. Of course they'd be stupid enough to follow his lead," Flaco shakes his head. He takes a look at you, sympathy flowing in his eyes, and sends a soft smile your way. "Come on, you know it as well as I do," Flaco urges. Flaco's not wrong, he's far from wrong. If anything, this stranger is the voice of reason you've been looking for this whole time - somebody who isn't afraid to speak your thoughts, to confirm your doubts, to help you see clearly. His eyes trail away from yours, and he softly shakes his head, but it's not directed at you. "What is it?" you question, noticing how wide his eyes go as he looks back over to you, as if you weren't meant to see that. "I was going to ask something stupid," Flaco says with a light laugh. "What was it?" you question again. Flaco attempts to brush you off, but you push on it for some unknown reason. "I was going to ask why you don't just leave," Flaco sighs, "stupid question, I know." Flaco notices how you relax, letting out a sigh of relief. He smiles at you, but tilts his head in confusion as you say "thank you." "For what?" "For not asking that," you explain, "for not... victim blaming me!" This time, Flaco does laugh, leaning back in his chair and letting his elbows rest on the backrest, propping himself up. "Like I said, it's a stupid question. You've got to be a real cabrón to ask that." You let out another sigh of relief, shuffling about on the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest. There's silence once again, and you zone out, thinking about things - thinking about him. Flaco's so right; you are being abused, you are a victim, and you have been brainwashed into thinking you're not. Despite only knowing him for a few hours, he's done so much to help, much more than anybody in your past has. And it seems that he's now willing to be a shoulder to cry on, as you let out a sniffle and wipe your eyes, biting the tip of your tongue to try and hold back. A large part of you feels guilty, not at your partner, but for storming into this strangers life and unloading your emotions onto him. Flaco lets out a small cough, drawing your attention to him, your glossy eyes meeting his warm ones. "You look like you need a friend right now," Flaco states the obvious, "I know I'm a stranger, but I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on." And you do, you really do. You let out a soft nod, and the second Flaco stands, you begin letting the tears flow. He settles on the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around you and firmly pulling you in, allowing you to begin sobbing against his chest. You're pawing at him, finding just the right spot to settle in and begin letting all your emotions out. His coat is softer than you could ever imagine, smothering your face as you press yourself against his chest, the cold metal of each bullet on his bandoliers resting against your jawline. You feel a little awkward, finding so much comfort in this stranger, but he brushes your anxious thoughts away as he pulls you onto his lap, shuffling back to lean against the cabin wall, letting you cry in his arms. Loving is the right word to describe this man; you can physically feel the warmth and sympathy radiating off him, cooing you softly as you continue to cry. He moves an arm off you for a second, only so he can remove his hat and place it down beside him, then coddles you once again. "Let it all out," Flaco encourages, his hands slowly stroking your arm and back, and you feel his cheek rest atop of your head, pulling you tighter against him. You're uncertain how long you were crying for, your mind turning foggy as you click into a trance, shaking and sobbing, whaling and whining, allowing your body to do whatever it needs to let all these emotions out. But eventually, you begin to burn yourself out, a headache slowly stepping in its place; you give your temple a rub, licking your lips at the same time, and keep your head pressed to Flaco's chest. He's still softly hushing you, gripping you tightly; you question how long he's been up here, if he's all alone, when he last had any kind of human contact. Can you blame him for coddling you so much? he must be losing his mind up here! and yet, he's still treating you with so much kindness, moving his hand off your arm to begin gently running it through your hair. The sound of his heartbeat appears in your conscience, and you listen in, the faint sound of the fire crackling in the distance. Flaco lets out a deep breath, lifting his head off yours to peer down at you. He notices the way you're gripping tightly onto his coat, and how your eyelids flutter, eager to drift off to sleep. Flaco speaks up, his voice softer than you can ever imagine, just about a whisper as to not startle you. "You know, I could get rid of him, if you'd like," he offers with a soft laugh. Your head snaps up to look at him, his warm eyes meeting your red ones. "What do you mean?" you question, needing confirmation to your thoughts. "Men like that, they just jump from one person to the other. Once he's done with you, he'll find another toy to play with. He's a pest," Flaco explains, still running his fingers along your hair as he talks. "I can't do that, I... I can't hurt him," you sigh, curling back against Flaco's chest, your eyes falling shut. "I never said you have to," Flaco lightly chuckles. He rests his head atop of yours, remaining silent for a few moments until he speaks up again, "just say the word, and I'll get rid of him for you." Why does every single part of you want to say yes? all apart from a tiny piece of guilt holding you back, preventing you from protecting yourself and others that he'll almost definitely pounce onto once you're out of the picture. You're thinking about it, wondering if you can live with that guilt, if you can allow his blood to be on your hands. "Chiquita," Flaco speaks up, catching your attention. "you and him, do you live together?" "No, he moved out a few months ago, got his own place," you explain. "Hm, any reason why?" "We just can't live together, too different, we clash." "Strange," Flaco comments. "You know you two aren't compatible, yet you're still putting the effort in." Once again, Flaco is right, but you begin to question your situation once Flaco speaks his next load of thoughts. "Why are you two heading to Barrow Lagoon? It's not a place that anybody goes near, out of respect," he comments. "Huh? respect of what?" you question. "I've forgotten his name, but there's a deceased man there. He used to live there some years back, passed away, and sadly his grave was dug up and vandalized," Flaco explains. "There's not many of us that live in the Grizzlies, but it's an unspoken rule that nobody goes there." "My partner... he told me that his parents have been there before, and he never mentioned anything about a grave," you speak your thoughts, lifting your head off Flaco's chest to speak directly to him, still curled up in his lap. "Something about that partner of yours isn't sitting right, even more now you're telling me this," Flaco frowns. Cogs are turning in both of your heads... this isn't the first time your partner has lied to you, or 'misinformed' you, as he'd put it. Flaco's eyes meet yours, and neither of you look away. He's studying you, his eyes trailing over you, his frown fading away the longer he looks at you. You can feel your eyes swelling up again, and you return to finding comfort against Flaco's chest, his hand coming up to massage your scalp again as you let out whatever tears you have left. There's silence between you two again, just you lightly sobbing in his arms, and Flaco coddling you. He's clinging onto you tighter this time, and you can sense how protective he's become over you, despite knowing you for such a short amount of time. This energy that Flaco's radiating, you've never felt it from your partner before, only the opposite. For a man that claims to be in love with you, he's done nothing but attempt to push you away from the very start, only to go back on his words and actions whenever you do try to break away. Why is he like this? why does he act sweet and kind whenever you try to escape, only to snap back into his abusive place once he knows you're in his grasp again? It's strange, he's strange, but in some ways, Flaco is also strange. You feel more love from this stranger than you've ever felt from your lousy partner, so much love, so much warmth and comfort, protection and sympathy. Your partner has never done anything like this, he's never had the basic respect to hold you in his arms as you cry, instead he pushes you away and tells you to 'sort your own problems out.' Flaco knows you're thinking again as he tells you to "take all the time you need." What a wonderful man, what a wonderful stranger you've stumbled across in your desperate time of need. So, you do what he says, taking all the time you need to think about everything, but mostly the extremely tempting offer that Flaco has gracefully placed in front of you. Are you comfortable with having somebody else's blood on your hands? "What do you have in mind?" you question, making Flaco smile against you, his head resting atop of yours. "That depends on what you're comfortable with," Flaco replies, lifting his head to look down at you in his lap. "I..." you pause, finding the strength to get this over and done with. "I can't hurt him, I can't, but I'm not going to step in the way if you want to." "Oh, I want to do a lot more than hurt him," Flaco lets out a laugh. "Just look at how much he's hurt you in these few hours, and I bet he's done much worse in the past!" "He has," you sigh. "Look," Flaco moves his hand off your head, gently cupping your chin, directing your eyes to his. "I'm no stranger to death. I've killed men before, and I have no problem doing it again. His blood will be on my hands, not yours, okay?" Your eyes trail away from Flaco's, visually showing discomfort to that word - death. Is this really what you want? it is, but it isn't... "I don't know," you reply. "I don't know if I want him dead, but I do know that I don't ever want to see him again." "I'm not going to do anything without your permission," Flaco tells you. His hand moves off your chin, cupping your jawline, his heart thudding in his chest when you snuggle your cheek into the curve of his palm. "...What if I give you permission to do whatever? to take him off my hands and... I don't know," you sigh. "I... I don't want to stoop to his level, I don't want to be like him." "It's okay," Flaco coos. "You leave it to Flaco, he'll sort it out." Once again, you rest your head on Flaco's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths, his heart beating in the distance, his thoughts running through his mind. The hand on your cheek returns to your head, petting you, comforting you, making your scalp tingle with every touch. You're exhausted, your body hunches over slightly, aching and desperate to rest; and your eyes, so dry and red, with heavy bags settled beneath them. Flaco can't fault you for dozing off in his lap, he doesn't even realize you've nodded off until you let out a soft snore. He sees this as the perfect opportunity to get some rest, gently shuffling you off his lap and tucking you into bed, laying beside you, your body pressed firmly against his, cuddling somebody for the first time in months. ------------------ You don't remember falling asleep, but you do remember how heavy your eyes felt once you'd cried your heart out. A yawn escapes your lips, and you stretch, pulling the blankets back up to your face once you feel your bones click. Wait... blankets? Your eyes snap open, and you take a look around, realizing you're completely alone, tucked into Flaco's bed. Through the cabin cracks you can tell it's morning, or afternoon, you're not entirely sure, but it's definitely light out, and you can hear wildlife singing in the distance. Shit. Your partner! You've been cooped up here all night, taking refuge and comfort in Flaco's cabin, and you're certain you're going to get it in the neck. Oh, you can hear his words now, accusing you of cheating, accusing you of leaving him to suffer in the cold all night, accusing you of whatever else he fancies because as always, you're in the wrong. Your boots are pulled on, and you let the blankets slip off you, peering out the cabin and nervously looking over to the tents. The flaps are wide open, bunched up at the corners, letting the frozen air trail through. You quietly creep out, tiptoeing down each porch step, silently shuffling through the snow until the inside of each tent comes into your sight. They're empty... The tents are in the exact condition that you found them, even your partners belongings are gone. Your eyes dart around, soon realizing that his horse is missing too, but yours is still hitched where you left them last night. There's a sickly feeling in your stomach, but you know it's not a feeling of regret. It's fear of the unknown, you have no idea where your partner or Flaco is, but you're almost certain that Flaco's done something about your dilemma - done something about him. You're unable to re-enter the cabin, instead sitting in the doorway, looking out at the frozen landscape and awaiting somebody's return. There's silence, so much silence that you can hear your own heartbeat, nervously thumping in your chest, making your sickness worsen as every second passes. Time trails by slowly, and you can't do anything apart from sit in the doorway and peer out at that small hill opposite the cabin, waiting for somebody to return. But after what feels like days, somebody does return, and you let out the biggest sigh of relief when it's the person you were hoping for. Flaco comes trotting over the hill, riding on the back of a horse that oddly looks like him; they're built and fluffy, a dark brown coat with thick fur keeping their hooves warm. Flaco makes eye contact with you the second he appears, and is smiling as he dismounts his horse, making his way over to you as you leap up from where you were sitting. "What happened?" you question. "It's done," Flaco explains, "he won't be bothering you no more." "You... you killed him?" you question in shock, and you instantly get the urge to scold yourself for feeling so... mixed about this. "I didn't do anything," Flaco shrugs. "What do you mean?" "I mean, I didn't do anything." Sigh. "Explain, please?" Flaco chuckles as he urges you into his cabin, his large hand placed on the small of your back, signalling for you to sit on his bed whilst he settles beside you. "He was already awake when I came out the cabin this morning, storming over and barking at me, demanding to know where you were. I shrugged and said I didn't know, and he pointed his finger at me whilst insisting that I did know, and that I needed to tell him 'or else'," Flaco lets out a laugh, and you can picture it clearly, not being a stranger to that sight. "I didn't tell him where you were, I didn't want to risk him storming in here and waking you up, or doing something stupid to you. So, I told him you've probably gone out to find firewood, or you've got sick of him and finally left-" "-You actually said that?" you cut him off, your eyes going wide. "Of course, I did," Flaco laughs. "And he was not happy with my comment, but I couldn't care any less. He said that he was going to look for you, and I told him that we're going hunting instead. That stupid, little man began his yapping again, but he quit barking when I stood over him and made it clear that I'm not one to bargain with." "What did you do, exactly?" you question. "I just told him he's going to hunt for me, and he didn't question me, which was surprising... Anyway, I took him down past Barrow Lagoon, and I made sure to point out that that was the place he was looking for," Flaco laughs again, chuckling away like a father laughing at his own jokes. "We trailed off into the forest, and I let him lead the way as he began looking for something to hunt. That partner of yours, he really was a cabrón, heading into wolf territory with only a bow on him... I knew there was a pack in the area the second we began riding through the trees, and I heard them come for us, for him." "What happened?" you question, your tone stern and curious. "I don't know," Flaco shrugs. "I heard the wolves go for him, I heard him cry out, but I didn't look back." "Do you think... is he?" "I don't know," Flaco repeats, shrugging this time. "But have you ever heard of anybody surviving being attacked by a pack of wolves?" "...No," you sheepishly reply. A deep sigh escapes your lips, and you have to bite at your tongue to stop yourself from crying. "I feel awful, but at the same time, I don't? I feel like... like I should... like I'm..." "Don't," Flaco interrupts you, "he deserves it, he got what was coming for him." Flaco pulls you against him, and you accept, resting your head on his shoulder as you find comfort in him once more. He's right, your partner did get what was coming for him. You've heard the phrase 'treat others how you want to be treated,' and well, he must have had a death wish considering the way he treated others, specifically you. Your body runs through every emotion, finding one that fits: Guilty? not really. Sad? not at all. Lonely? not any more. How about relieved? you're free, you're finally free, but for whatever reason, you're crying. "Hey," Flaco speaks up, catching your gaze. "It's okay to be confused," he tells you, and that's just the reassurance you were looking for, as if he was reading your mind. "It's going to take time, you're going to feel confused for a while, but Flaco promises you that you'll eventually feel better," he says with a smile, and chuckles as you practically pounce on him, climbing onto his lap and snuggling up to him once again. Flaco wraps his arms around you, and your cheeks turn red as he places a tender kiss on your forehead. You suddenly feel so warm, so wanted, so loved, and you curl up in Flaco's lap, thanking him for saving you. "I didn't save you," Flaco tells you, "you saved yourself, I just had to give you a little push." "Or give him a little push," you correct him with a laugh. "I think it was his horse that did that," Flaco laughs with you. There are tears flowing from your eyes, yet you're smiling, finding so much more than comfort in this man. Flaco's right, you have saved yourself, and you're forever thankful that Flaco gave you the courage to do so.

#abuse #abuse tw #throw me to the wolves #rdrwriting #long fic #large fic #reader insert #f!reader #female reader #fem reader #flaco hernández #flachoes #flaco hernandez #rdo #red dead online #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #flaco hernández x reader #flaco hernández x you

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neon-junkie · 3 years

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sfw/nsfw hcs being flaco’s “pequeña esposa”? i’m so soft at the thought of being flaco’s wife bc i imagine he’s like john mulaney and will use any excuse to call you his wife if you’re married. i love the way you write him!

do you know how long i've been waiting for THIS request?? do you know how many headcanons i have about being Flaco's lady??? SO MANY. HERE U GO <3

Flaco gives me B I G Gomez Addams vibes; adores his wife, would do anything for her, dedicates his life to her, lusts after her every single day. Flaco fully devotes himself to you, because that's how women should be loved - that's how you should be loved.

Honestly, he started calling you his wife a few months after you two started dating, but not directly to your face.

He slipped up one day and said it by accident; Flaco made a passing comment to his men about you, "my wife should be coming up to see me this week!!!"

His men all looked at him with a grin, they know Flaco's just a big baby, but he'll never admit that to them. Needless to say, he brushed them off and went along with it, to the point that he now only ever refers to you as his wife.

Flaco really tried to hold back on proposing to you; he wanted to ensure you really want him, because we all know how that gunslinger doubts himself. He waited for just under two years until he finally burst and asked you, but he purchased your ring just after your one year anniversary, and has kept it safe in his inner coat pocket ever since.

He cried when you said yes, like full-on broke down and confessed that he's always been worried that he'd spend his final years alone, how he's so lucky to have you, all that good, mushy stuff.

And of course, Flaco cried so much at the wedding, so much at the honey moon. You had to pack extra handkerchiefs just so Flaco could use them.

He gawks over the ring on his finger all the time, and will sometimes take your hand in his just so he can look at your ring - it's as if he needs confirmation that yes, he has married you.

You once woke up in the middle of the night to find Flaco sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, hunched over slightly. You shuffled about, wondering what he was doing, only to find that he was just staring at his ring. He does this often, you're just not always awake to see it.

Flaco also loves using you as a threat. He knows you're a tough cookie, and you won't hesitate to knock a bitch out, and Flaco lives to see it.

If somebody upsets Flaco, he'll go "watch out, amigo. I'll set my wife on you."

They always laugh at him, to which Flaco will stand up to them (literally,) looking down and going "I might give you a chance to flee and sort yourself out, but my wife sure won't, and it'd be a real shame if you ever have to meet her."

Honestly, Flaco just jumps at any opportunity to say those words, and sometimes he makes his own opportunities. He'll go "my wife!!" whenever he sees you, or will turn to you and go "my wife?" just to confirm that yes, you're his wife.

"There she is!! there's my wife!!!!" :D

(NSFW)

When it comes to the bedroom, Flaco doesn't say it as often as you might expect him to. He loves saying it to show you off, which he does a lot, but he tends to pick other pet names when he's in bed with you.

Flaco has two horny moods: one where he just wants to raw you like crazy whilst calling you names like his whore, and another where he wants to be gentle and tender whilst he calls you his wife.

When he's in his tender mood, he'll shower you in affection and praise when he's in the middle of making love to you; he'll be rolling his hips, kissing along your neck, all whilst whispering about how much he adores you, how much he treasures you, how much light you've brought into his life.

Flaco can be quite the romantic, and sometimes you swear he's secretly a poet. Maybe he spent all his time in the mountains reading poetry books and fawning over you like a schoolgirl?

After sex, Flaco loves having you lying on his chest, spending some time pillow talking with you, as he fiddles with your hair between his fingertips. Sometimes you feel like a dog because he loves petting you so much.

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Note

Could we please have some more Flaco? Maybe Y/N gets snowed in the cabin with him and they spend a romantic night together (idk do whatever you think would go best, you don’t even have to take this request) I just really love the Mexican bby 🥺👉👈

hnnggggg i can’t resist Flaco requests, obviously. Here’s some gender-neutral reader smut for you <3

Yes, maybe you should have left when your gut was telling you to, but Flaco's still rambling on about his younger days, and he always puts on a show whenever he talks. He's theatrical without realizing it, with large hand movements, and a deep voice that can easily reach the back of any theatre. How can you not be captivated when Flaco is talking? It's impossible! The sound of the heavy snow outside soon disappears from your mind, and you're sat on Flaco's bed, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, watching as he strides around his cabin, telling you exactly why he doesn't get along with Jim boy Calloway. But Flaco's story is soon interrupted when both of you hear a thud in the distance, and Flaco is quick to wander over to the cabin door and peer outside.

"Oh, it's only a tree," Flaco comments as he quickly shut the door again, his hat almost blowing off from the heavy draft. How he is so unfazed by this harsh weather is beyond you, but you begin to panic, knowing there's no way you can ride through that white hell, especially considering the snow is so thick that you can't even see the stairs.

"My horse," you whimper, concerned for your mounts safety, but Flaco calms you as he assures that your horse is fine, that they've gone to find their own shelter.

"My horse does it all the time, there's a cave not too far from here, an empty one... well, it's not now there are two horses in it," he explains with a laugh. Flaco has a horse? That's new.

You allow him to brush your concern off your shoulders, but a shiver quickly replaces it. You realize how the temperature has dropped even more now there's a fresh, thick coat of snow surrounding the cabin, and blowing in through a few gaps in the wood.

"Come, sit," Flaco beckons you as he sits on the floor in front of the cooking fire after placing another log on.

You sit beside him, watching as the flames begin to pick up, consuming the log Flaco has generously fed, and warming up the cabin within no time. Flaco begins to talk again, and as always, you sit and listen, unaware on how much your minor gesture means to Flaco.

It's lonely up here, his men are usually out doing their own thing, and Flaco can't risk leaving the cabin for long, not with the price on his head and the Pinkertons on his tail. So, the sight of you tilting your head slightly and batting your lashes innocently, as Flaco continues to talk warms his heart. He knows your full focus is on him, and usually it feeds his ego, but tonight he blushes for once and quickly looks away, his words trailing off for a brief moment before he picks them up again.

"Are you warmer?" Flaco questions, his eyes on the flames.

"Getting there," you reply.

Flaco looks at you briefly, opening his mouth to say something, but turns away again. He keeps his eyes forward, watching the fire consume each log, before finally speaking.

"This... this is nice, you know? I haven't had anybody to talk to in so long. I don't get many visitors, apart from the odd bear or a Pinkerton scout. But to have somebody... to have you sit and listen as I talk away... I really appreciate it," Flaco confesses, his voice soft and warm, but there's an obvious heartbreak in his words.

You can't help but reach out and rest your hand on his arm, the thick but worn fur of his coat pressing against your palm, entwining between your fingertips. Flaco gazes down at your hand on his arm, and the rosiness returns to his cheeks again, only this time he doesn't hide it as he looks at you.

"I'll keep you warm, if you want," Flaco offers, and you nod in agreement as you shuffle close to him. He's a little hesitant at first, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but soon scoops you up and settles you in his lap. You curl up against him, your side pressed to his chest, your head in the curve of his neck, your legs tangled up with his. Flaco's hands wrap around your waist, cosily meeting in the middle. A gentle kiss is placed to the top of your head before Flaco rests his cheek there, his eyes falling shut, enjoying the feeling of finally having someone to hold, someone who cares, someone who will sit and listen, even if there wasn't a snow storm outside.

There's silence for a while, yet it's peaceful. Sure, you can still hear the sounds of thudding snow around you, but it soon fades from your consciousness. All you're focused on is Flaco's deep breaths hitting the top of your head, his chest rising and falling against your body, and his heartbeat echoing in the distance.

You could have fallen asleep, if it wasn't for Flaco speaking up again.

"I... I appreciate you coming to see me so often," Flaco confesses.

"It's alright, you ain't gotta thank me. I like visiting you," you tell him, your eyes still shut.

"No," Flaco sighs, and gently moves his hand from your waist so he can cup your chin. He tilts your head up, your eyes opening as they make contact with his. "I, uh, I really appreciate it..."

Something in your gut tells you that he's trying to confess something important to you, something that needs to be said, but words are failing him. Can you be surprised? Spending all this time by yourself must really start to take a toll on your wellbeing.

Flaco looks away again, but follows his gaze back to you as you gently cup his jawline and lead his head. He looks down at you, his brows not furrowed for once; this is easily the most relaxed you've ever seen him, and you know you're the cause behind his calmness.

He's mesmerized, softly smiling at you. You both know what's coming next, and you're happy on the unspoken agreement to meet in the middle.

You've always hoped you'd end up like this, or at least end up curled on his lap one day. The kiss is a bonus, a bonus that makes you shudder as he moves his hands to hold you tenderly, his hat brushing against the top of your head as he moves, and his facial hair is a lot softer than it looks, you barely feel it brush over the sensitive skin above your upper lip.

Flaco breaks the kiss so he can remove his hat, placing it on the floor beside him, and meets your lips again, only this time, he's hungry. His hands are trailing over you, soon settling on your thighs and tugging at them. You know what he wants, and you move your body to straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls your chest against his.

His kisses are both tender and lustful at the same time, knowing exactly when to sigh against your lips, and exactly when to deepen the kiss. Flaco's large hands are trailing over you once more, only this time he's picking at all the fastenings on your clothes, picking at buttons, pulling at laces, guiding the fabric from your body.

You've only managed to unhook his bandoliers and gun belt by the time you're nude, and you seem to have forgotten about the chill outside; if anything, the cabin suddenly feels boiling.

Flaco breaks the kiss as you finish fiddling with the fastenings on his coat, shrugging it off and taking a hold of you again. "Hey," Flaco softly calls out, "are you sure about this? I uh, I'm not quite the man I used to be..."

"Quit doubting yourself," you tell him, cupping his jawline and placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sure."

Flaco softly laughs, "alright," he confirms, and continues to massage and knead at every part of you. Flaco's admiring you, gazing and gawking over your body, then dips his head to kiss your neck as he keeps one hand firmly on your hip, the other moving down to your crotch.

His hand is roaming over you, getting a feel, exploring your body; he's attentive, noticing what touches make your knees go weak, and which ones you shy away from. Flaco moves his hand away so he can dampen his fingers, and then presses them against your entrance, slicking you up before slowly inserting a finger.

"Good, good," Flaco coos as he works his way in, slowly pumping his finger in and out, picking up a little more speed with every thrust.

Once you're ready, and Flaco knows you're ready since you're now a babbling, whimpering mess, struggling to stay upright over his lap, he slips another finger in. He's praising you once more, kissing along your collarbone and moving up your neck, his other hand gripping you firmly in an attempt to keep you upright. "Just a little more," Flaco mutters as he continues working you open, scissoring his fingers, stretching you to the best of his ability, ensuring you won't be in pain when he finally slides in.

You only have to say his name once and Flaco knows you're ready. He's grinning as he slips out of you, moving to his pants and unfastening them. You almost pounce onto him once he pulls out his cock, thick and flushed, pre-cum dribbling from the tip; he chuckles when you move his hands away to replace them with your own, pumping his shaft, getting him ready and earning beautiful moans.

"Come on," Flaco says as he rushes to unbutton his white shirt, tossing it onto his bed, and laying back on the floor. His coat is spread out perfectly, acting as a padded layer from the wooden floor.

You shuffle up his hips and find the right position, holding Flaco's cock steady and at your own pace, you slide down onto him. Flaco's grunting and groaning as you sink down, letting his hands rest on your hips. He swears once you're seated, and rolls his head back against his coat, shutting his eyes and sighing deeply. "It's been so long," Flaco comments, and you allow the larger man to have a breather.

Flaco's eyes are on yours again, and he's waiting patiently for you to take the lead, letting you ride him when you're ready. Once again, Flaco's moaning, watching in admiration as you ride him, your hands resting on his thick, broad chest, fingers entwined with his layer of chest hair.

You're slow at first, focused on how Flaco's length feels inside you; finally, you're making love to the man you've had your eyes on for so long, the man you trail up the snowy mountain for just to see under the excuse of work, the man who's been soft on you the second you stumbled into his cabin. Flaco has stars and hearts in his eyes, watching you explore him, and encouraging you to go at your own pace.

Once you're ready, you speed up, and Flaco's a moaning mess beneath you. It's not hard to miss the way his hips and thighs keep twitching, eager to press you against his chest and buck up into you, but he's a respectful man, one that has a big soft spot for seeing his soon-to-be-sweetheart on top of him.

Flaco eventually lets out a soft "come here," and beckons you to move your body forward, his arms wrapping around your waist. You can feel his legs move beneath you, propping his body into the right position, and he begins to buck up into you.

The air is pushed from your lungs, Flaco's hard slam taking you by surprise, and he hums pleasantly at your reaction. He goes a little softer, rolling his hips up into you, holding your waist firmly, occasionally moving down to knead your ass. Flaco's now grunting and groaning, sending a flow of praise your way; when his eyes aren't scrunched shut, he's looking up at you, taking in your debauched reaction.

Eventually, you find it hard to stay propped up, and fall limp against Flaco's chest, your head snuggling into the curve of his chest. "Too good, huh?" Flaco asks in a cocky manner, laughing at the end of his words, and keeps his grin on his face when you nod in agreement.

Flaco speeds up his pace, bucking up into you, loving the way you've turned into a whimpering mess on him. You soon manage to peel yourself off Flaco's chest, propping yourself back up, only because your orgasm is on edge and you need to touch yourself. Flaco sighs when you reach down to play with yourself, sending words of encouragement your way, "close already? good, so am I."

You almost forget how to breathe when your orgasm hits, letting out a choked moan and clenching around Flaco's length. He's grunting and moaning, panting heavily as he slams up into you once more and holds himself there, spilling his load inside you. The cabin is almost silent for a while, just the both of you catching your breath and coming to terms with what's finally happened.

Flaco is the first to speak, patting your thighs and going "let's get cleaned up." Before you can slide off him, he sits upright, stealing a tender kiss from you; it's obvious that Flaco adores you, just from the softness yet eagerness of his kisses, and the way he gazes into your eyes before kissing your forehead sweetly.

Flaco helps clean you up, both of you pulling on some light clothing to sleep in, and Flaco is in bed before you, getting it warm with his coat spread over him, acting as an extra layer of warmth. You're pulled against his chest as you join him, snuggling up to the larger man, his body providing more than enough warmth to keep you toasty throughout the night.

"It's a good thing I ramble some times, huh?" Flaco softly comments.

"Yeah, and it's a good thing there's a snow storm outside."

"Mhmm," Flaco nods in agreement, his eyes falling shut. "We're snowed in, you might need to spend some time here."

"Oh, what a shame," you sarcastically reply, making Flaco chuckle.

Flaco places a kiss on your forehead, and you curl up to him a little tighter, falling asleep in his arms.

#rdrwriting #snowstorm #short fic #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #smut #nsft #flaco hernandez #flaco hernández #flachoes #flaco hernández x you #flaco hernández x reader #red dead online #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Anonymous

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Note

I would like to request a Flaco face fucking fic/headcannons with a male reader from the high and mighty MALLR4TS >w> Maybe m!reader surprises his big bf with a morning bj or smth 👀👀 wuv u <3

ahhhh I always get carried away whenever people request my faves xD here’s those headcanons for you, they actually came out gender neutral (didn’t feel the need to mention gender!) :0

Flaco isn't usually one to ask for anything in return; he's a giver, and he takes pleasure in seeing you fall apart from his touches.

It's a bit of a game for him, figuring out the right buttons to press, along with the right sequence of when to press them.

He gets off on knowing that he's the one making you feel like that, nobody else, just him.

So, for Flaco to ask for anything in return would be odd, really out of the blue, super duper rare, especially because you always satisfy him in multiple ways.

But he'll never turn you down. He's not stupid, why would he say no to a blowjob???

Flaco's a solid sleeper, as in he doesn't toss and turn often, but he's a light sleeper who wakes up at the slightest noise. He can't help it, but from the lifestyle he's lived, he's always on edge.

Flaco knows you though, even in his sleep, and he knows when you're getting up to use the outhouse, or just getting comfortable. His body doesn't bother waking himself up when you're on the move, but he obviously does become aware when you're getting close to him.

He's still sound asleep as you shuffle down the bed and begin palming at his length, massaging his semi-hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He's a natural radiator, and you provide him enough warmth that he'll tend to sleep only in boxers.

Flaco stirs a little as you free his length from the fabric, and sighs in his sleep as you lick up the base of his shaft, swirling your tongue around the tip and popping him into your mouth.

He's awake within seconds, rubbing at his eyes and blinking heavily as he lets out a groan, before finally looking down at you.

"Good morning," he says with a light laugh. "What have I done to deserve this, huh?"

His large palm rests on the back of your head, not pushing at you, but relaxing there as he enjoys the new addition to his morning routine.

If you really want to see Flaco fall apart, give him a blowjob. He sometimes starves himself from them, so when he does finally get one, the pleasure is tenfold and he turns into putty in your hands.

Flaco's not a morning person at all, he'll grumble and groan as he gets up, with awful bed-hair and heavy bags under his eyes. But waking up like this? Oh, this he could get used to.

He won't tell you, but this is such a large sign of affection to him. He loves you sucking his cock, but helping him wake up in the morning with this gesture? Flaco's all for it.

Like I said, he's polite, and you'll have to encourage him if you want him to fuck your face. If you directly ask him to do it, he'll sigh deeply before muttering "of course," and gets right to work.

He loves a sloppy blowjob, and he loves face-fucking, and if you combine the two for him then he'll forever be in your debt. Play with his balls whilst all this is going on, and he might actually start crying, it's just too much for him!

His thrusts vary, but they’re usually deep and somewhat slow. He likes to enjoy every second, every inch, and it’s going to rush his meal.

Flaco may have his head rolled back against the pillow with his eyes shut, breathing and groaning heavily, but he knows your stop signal and always instantly stops whenever you give it.

As always, Flaco asks where he can cum, and whimpers if you allow him to cum in your mouth. He's not going to last long, at least, not for the first round...

"Now it's my turn to return the favour..."

#Anonymous #rdrwriting #rdrheadcanon #nsft #smut #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #flachoes #flaco hernandez #flaco hernández #reader insert #flaco hernández x reader #flaco hernández x you #rdo #red dead online #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Note

Can't remember if I sent this or not, so if this is a duplicate just ignore it, but how do you think Flaco would react to a fem S/O who is too small for his cock and they have to spend some sessions working her up to be able to take him? How would he react when she's finally able to take him?

The puny pussy committee is curious.

Thank you.

I never had this appear before so deffo not a repeat, but here you go ^_^

Flaco's an angel, as we all know. He's a very laid back guy, very understanding, will listen and follow your lead.

After all, he does want you to be comfortable.

His fingers are perfect for the job.

Some sessions he spoons you whilst slowly fingering you, kissing along your neck and whispering the sweetest praise in your ear.

Other sessions he'll go down on you, using his tongue to help lube you up and work you open, all still whilst attempting to praise you, even though his mouth is occupied.

"Just a little more for me, you think you can handle that?"

He waits for you to tell him when you're ready, and if he still doesn't fit, then it's back to smothering you in kisses and telling you "it's okay, we'll get there, don't you worry."

Flaco is a big boy after all...

But when you do finally fit, he's probably more excited than you. I can't explain it, but his facial expression is !!!!!!

"I told you we'd get there eventually! Now I'm going to show you how proud I am of you..."

He still follows your lead, fucking you however you want, constantly looking out for signs of discomfort.

He'll ask if you're okay every five minutes; he's really worried, he doesn't want to hurt you!

And once the deed is done, it's time for cuddles and a well-needed nap, where he'll continue to praise you and still check on you, worried you may have some after-pain.

#rdrwriting #rdrheadcanon #nsft #smut #f!reader #fem reader #female reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #flachoes #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez #flaco hernández x you #flaco hernández x reader #flaco hernández/you #flaco hernández/reader #red dead online #Anonymous

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

Touch Starved

Summary: Flaco's been by himself for so long, he can barely remember the last time he had somebody to hold, but things are about to change when you can't get off the mountain and stay the night.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x gn!Reader

Word Count: 2430

Rating: SFW

Tags: Fluff, Feelings, Accidental cuddling, Sharing a bed, Sleepy cuddles, Memories/flashback, Pining, Comfort, Tenderness, Developing relationship.

Notes: So, @a-vast-african-plain hit me with the ‘Flaco must be so touch starved, all alone on that mountain’ and I couldn’t stop thinking about it:( and after my meltdown last night, I just had to write something to make myself feel better

Flaco rolls over in his bed, an arm reaching out to wrap around your waist and pull you closer but to his surprise, his hand can't find you. He waves his hand around the bed, attempting to find where you'd rolled over to but still, you're not there. His eyes finally snap open as he props himself up on an elbow, realising that the space next to him is empty. In a panic, he looks around his cabin, noticing that you're not sat on his chair or tending to the fire, you're nowhere to be seen. Flaco's about to jump out of bed, ready to track you down and ask why you've left but the door opens. He watches you enter the cabin, stomping the snow off your boots as you shut the door and lock it, keeping the ghastly chill out. You slide your coat off, putting it back on the peg you usually hang it from and turn to begin making your way back to bed. You stop, trying not to laugh at the sight of a very sleepy and very grumpy Flaco; his hair is a mess, loose strands everywhere, his eyes are almost fully scrunched shut, and he's sticking out his bottom lip much more than usual. He looks like you've just shaken him awake, insulted him, then ran off. "You alright?" you ask him as he rubs his eyes, his heart slowing down now he knows you're safe. "Mhmm," Flaco nods. "Where did you go?" he questions.

"To use the outhouse," you tell him. It's not uncommon for you to wake up in the night because you need to empty your bladder, but it's always a pain doing so in the cold. You'd forced yourself out of bed, eyes barely open as you trailed out the cabin, huffing to yourself the whole time. "Oh," is all Flaco replies. He lies back down, rolling onto his back, leaving more than enough space beside him. Flaco wants to ask you to come back to bed, he wants to reach out and pull you against him, tucking you in as you curl up on his chest, but the gunslinger doesn't want to come across as needy. You'd never stayed the night before but after doing a job for him yesterday, you rode south and spotted lawmen around the abandoned mine. It was getting late and you knew that if you rode past Barrow Lagoon then you'd be ambushed by wolves, so you rode back to Flaco, knowing you can trust him, and asked if you could stay in one of the empty tents outside. Flaco pushed and pushed for you to take his bed, telling you that he never sleeps away, that he wasn't tired, an array of excuses. You told him you'd share it to which he laughed, reminding you again that he wasn't tired, but you rolled your eyes at him and said "well, when you do get tired you can take the space beside me." You went to bed, leaving more than enough room for Flaco to join you. You tossed and turned a few times throughout your slumber, unknowingly letting out the softest mewls and sighs as you moved. It caught Flaco off guard at first, he thought there was a whimpering puppy outside his cabin, but when you moved again he realised it was you. Flaco leans back in his chair, completely forgetting about the wood that he was whittling, more fixated in watching you sleep (in a non-creepy manner.) You looked so peaceful, the calmest thing Flaco's seen in months, maybe years. His eyes suddenly felt so heavy as he yawned, though it took a while for him to build the confidence to go to bed. Normally, Flaco has all the confidence in the world and you know this from the number of compliments and praise he's sent your way, but this was different; Flaco was going to be close to you, probably accidentally cuddling you as he sleeps. What if you wake up and push him off? Or what if you just leave in the night and never return? Flaco props his hat on the back of his chair as he rubs his eyes, pushing the hair from his face, telling himself that he needs to sleep and that you're understanding, these things happen, and you're both mature and sensible enough to let him down. Well, he expects things to go that way; Flaco's always expected the worst, it's hard not to with the life he lives. He slumps his bandoliers and gunbelt on his chair, then unbuttons his coat as he approaches his bed. He drapes the thick clothing over you, using it as an extra blanket. Flaco sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes and unfastening his bandana, leaving him in his old, white undershirt and dark pants. Flaco still seems hesitant to join you. It's not that he doesn't want to, he very much does, but being this close to another person is just so... nervewracking for him. It's been so long since Flaco's had somebody to hold or to hold him when he needs it. He's been on the run for so long, riding from campsite to campsite, usually avoiding the law before they can arrive. He knows his men sometimes go into town just to find some company, or even hold each other when times are tough, but Flaco's the boss, the leader, the man that can't be seen as needy or desperate. But deep down he feels so empty like there's not much left inside of him, like those lonely feeling have almost finished eating him up. His body constantly aches, but now there's a small opening, one where he might be able to find even just the tiniest bit of affection, but it's been so long that he only feels afraid. Finally, Flaco joins you. He decides to lie on his side facing away from you, not wanting to push his luck into your boundaries, or the boundaries Flaco assumes you have. He watches the fire for a while before shutting his eyes, attempting to fall asleep. He's close, ready to doze off at any second, but you let out another soft mewl as you toss and turn again, rolling over once more. Flaco almost jumps out of his own skin when he feels something touch his waist, but lets out a sigh of relief when he realises that it's just you. It's just you... curling up against his back, wrapping your arm loosely around his waist, spooning a man twice the size of you. A part of Flaco feels sick, only because he's not had any affection in so long that it makes him nervous. He can feel his eyes swelling, his body wanting to cry but he refuses to. You shuffle close to him, pressing your forehead against his shoulders, still in a deep slumber. Flaco can't take it anymore; he gently rolls over, repositioning your arm around his waist as he moves. He's facing you, his hand coming up to move the loose strands of hair from your face, then pulling the blanket and his coat right up against your chin. Flaco's hand rests on the back of your head, fingertips lazily brushing against your hair. His cheek rests on the top of your head, pulling you against his chest. He lets out a sigh, shutting his eyes. Flaco suddenly realises how warm he feels, not in the sense that the cabin is too hot, but his insides almost feel like they're on fire. He's hot and mushy, gulping down this small gesture though he feels like he's using you. You're not awake, you're probably unaware that you've cuddled up to him, and Flaco's certain that you'll push him away whenever you do wake. But for now, Flaco continues to fiddle with the strands of your hair, eventually getting some rest for the first time in days. And that's why Flaco went into such a state of panic when he woke; you're nowhere to be seen and Flaco realises that he's fucked up, he's crossed a boundary that shouldn't have even been looked at, getting cosy with you, and now he'll probably never see you again. But you strolled back into the cabin, not noticing the sigh of relief Flaco let out as you locked the door behind you. It's far too early for you to get up and honestly, you don't want to. You're still tired, bags under your eyes and a pout on your face. Without thinking, you climb back into bed, rolling over Flaco as you take your spot beside the wall. "You could have asked me to move over," Flaco tells you as you curl up under the blankets. "Did want to disturb you, 'specially when you seem so grumpy," you say with a small laugh. "Grumpy?" Flaco questions as he moves his head to look at you. "Eh, when am I not grumpy?" he shrugs. "Hm, true," you reply, your voice just above a whisper as you roll onto your side. You shuffle closer to Flaco, clinging onto his arm as you rest your forehead against his shoulder, a lazy attempt of a cuddle. Flaco's taken aback that you have the confidence to just cuddle up to him, or at least try to, but it's enough to begin eating up at his insides, prodding that touch starved sensation he always feels. Flaco was gripping onto you tightly when you'd woken up, sleeping with you curled up against his chest. You hadn't put much thought into it, you'd always been eager to cuddle that man, both because you want to and because he clearly needs it. So, now that you're back in bed, you've not put any thought into cuddling up to him again, not knowing how much the gesture means to him. "Come here," Flaco says in the softest voice you've ever heard. He rolls onto his side, pulling you against his chest again as you find comfort and warmth in each other. He's cuddled up to you like before, fiddling with your hair yet again as you snuggle against his chest. Your arm wraps around his waist, kneading at the old white shirt he wears. The fabric is so worn yet still thick, you dread to think how long he's worn it as its clearly the same shirt he wears in his cigarette card, back in his younger days. You've teased him about the cigarette card before, completely forgetting he was on one until you opened up a fresh pack to share a smoke with him, revealing the card. "Look who it is," you smiled as you showed him, to which he rolled his eyes and tried to focus on lighting his cigarette. "If it wasn't for that, I would have been forgotten by now," Flaco told you, yanking hard at your heartstrings. You could never forget him, you make it your main priority to see him at least once a week, though you'd never admit it to him, probably because he'd just laugh you off, or so you think. You gazed at the card again, judging the outfit he wears, the playful pose he stands in, that brooding yet cocky look to his eyes. You'd been looking at the card a little longer than you realised and Flaco commented on it. "What is it, huh? What's got you so focused on that thing?" "Oh," you replied as you looked up at him. A playful smile crossed your lips as you decided to prod at him, it's only fair as he prods at you all the time. "You were just so young and handsome back then, such a catch. If only I'd known you in your prime time," you laughed. Flaco grumbled, saying something under his breath in his mother language. "Mierda descarada," he pouted. "And what about me now, huh? I'm still me, maybe not young and handsome anymore but eh, I think I can still be quite the catch," Flaco told you, attempting to act confident but it's obvious how much he doubts himself. "You're still quite the catch," you reassured him. "But you're not young and handsome anymore, you're just handsome now," you smiled. Flaco let out a deep laugh, the kind that comes straight from his chest, making his eyes squint happily as he told you how funny you are. It's always nice to see him like that, seeing that he's not always just a grumpy old man, that he still has quite the spark inside of him. Your hand continues to knead at the fabric as you finish revisiting that memory, eventually deciding that it's too rough to comfortably hold on to. "I'm going to buy you a new shirt," you tell him as you move your hand south, resting it over his hips instead, your forearm pressing against the waistband of his pants. "What? Why?" Flaco questions, his eyes shut and his cheek squishing against the top of your head. "It's so worn and old, almost as old as you," you playfully tease. "Very funny," Flaco replies in a monotone voice. "You seem to forget who you're talking to, as if I'm not some old gunslinger who could off you at any second," he grumbles. "You'd kill me just for insulting your shirt?" you question, burying your face deeper against his chest, feeling the way he wraps his arm around you tighter as you move. "I might do," Flaco replies. You softly laugh, "you would never," you tell him, moving your hand from his hip and sneaking it under his shirt. Your hand glides softly against his back, skin on skin, the gesture making Flaco let out a deep breath that he didn't even know he was holding onto. "You're right," Flaco tells you, tilting his head up so he can place a kiss to your forehead, his moustche gently prickling against your skin. "I could never," Flaco reassures you. You hold onto him and Flaco holds onto you. The pair drift back to sleep, factually knowing now that they have each other, that the hollow feelings they have inside are slowly being filled up. Flaco knows that he won't have any more sleepless nights, that you'll reignite the fire inside of him, that he eventually won't feel so empty. And you know that you'll always have someone to hold you, someone to brush the hairs off your face and kiss your forehead whenever you need him to. Within time, you'll both feel full again.

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