#THIS IS THE LAST SET FOR NOW I PROMISE. I just had to do something therapeitic with my hands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purple-babygirl · 12 hours

Text

in the far corner of the forest VI

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,498 (my excuse is this is the last one)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, so much cum, cum swallowing, Bucky is a lil filthy, multiple orgasms, pregnancy.

A/N: aaaand our story with our favorite orc comes to an end. I've certainly had a lot of fun writing this one and I loved you reading it even more. Thank you to every one who has been here since the beginning I love you with my whole heart. also if you see this, please wish me good luck on finding a job, your girl is broke and too weak for the streets. please enjoy xx💜💜

“I wanna talk to you about something,” she said, her gaze nervous as she set down a mug of green tea for Bucky on the dining table.

He was reading a bit while she finished up the kitchen work and he didn’t ask for tea, which meant she wanted something and was probably bribing him. It definitely made him curious to know what she was going to ask for.

Life with Bucky was an absolute dream. Their relationship was stable and solid and she thought it would be a good time to finally tell him about everything that has been occupying her mind lately.

“Is it that I need to lose weight?” Bucky teased, gesturing to the green tea before him.

“Bucky,” she whined, “I’m serious!”

Bucky laughed, “okay, okay,” he put the book down instantly, “I’m all yours, sweet thing.”

She smiled timidly, “promise me not to get mad.”

“I promise?” Bucky said, unsure what to think of this conversation.

What did she do?

“No, like, say the whole thing…”

“I promise not to get mad?”

“Thank you.” She sighed.

“What is it, my love?” Bucky held her hand in his, rubbing the back of it gently.

“I— umm I know that women working is frowned upon in our kingdom, but— um—”

“First of all, that’s just a human thing. Our females can do whatever they want. Second,” Bucky brought his other hand to her cheek, “you can talk to me, little human. Don’t be afraid. What is it that you want? Be sure that I’ll make it happen.”

She sighed again as she briefly leaned into Bucky’s touch before pulling away, “please don’t say no.” She pleaded.

“I have to know what you want first.” He chuckled lightly.

“Remember when you said that Sam and Sarah liked the strawberry jam I made?” She asked, chewing on her lower lip.

“Yes, and we’ve been their jam suppliers ever since.” Bucky laughed, holding his tea mug to take a sip.

“You also liked it, right?” She tilted her head anxiously.

“I loved it.” Bucky licked his tusks seductively.

She blushed, biting back a smile, “and— and the girls back at the orphanage would always tell me they liked my jams too.”

“As they should.” Bucky nodded, boosting her confidence, making her smile.

Gods, she loved him so much.

“So I was thinking maybe… maybe I could try and sell them?” She finally said the words, her voice hushing by the end of her question as she gauged her orc’s reaction.

“Sell them?” Bucky asked, setting his mug down.

She nodded, nervous again now that he didn’t seem to like the idea very much.

“Like in the market?”

“Yes.”

He stayed silent for a beat, a frown forming on his face as he thought about her request.

She put her hand back in Bucky’s, “if you say no, I won’t bring it up again, but—”

“I’m not gonna say no, sweet thing. I’m just worried,” Bucky said lowly, appearing to be deep in thought as he squeezed her smaller hand in his.

“Worried about what? I have saved money for everything! You would always give me a lot of money before we go out to the market and I’ve saved most of it. You’ve already gotten me everything I needed, so I didn’t really spend much. You don’t have to worry about buying materials! I know they would give us the fruits for a cheaper price if we buy in bulk—”

“Little human, that’s not what I’m worried about, and I’m not about to let my wife start her business with her savings. Your money is yours.” Bucky interrupted firmly, shaking his head at her.

She smiled warmheartedly as she hugged her orc’s hand to her chest, “then what are you worried about?”

“I’m worried about the people in the market. We don’t know how they would react to you putting up your own stand in there. There are no women there, sweet thing. As you said, it’s frowned upon.”

“There is Martha, the jewelry lady!”

“Yeah, but have you seen any other female besides Martha?” Bucky gave her a sad smile.

“No,” she mumbled, disheartened at the thought that she might not be able to bring her small business idea to life.

She knew that Martha was only working because she was a childless widow and the stand was originally her husband’s. She was the only one left to inherit and run it or else she wouldn’t be able to afford food.

“I’m not saying we’re not gonna do it,” Bucky brought her gaze to his by her chin, “but I can’t not worry about you.”

“I know.” She dipped her face to kiss Bucky’s palm, “what are we gonna do?”

“If a jam stand in the market is really what you want, then I will support you all the way until your booth is standing high in the middle of that market.”

She smiled fondly before feeling anxious once more, “what if the men in the market don’t like it?”

“Then they can take it up with me,” Bucky reassured her, his chest puffing involuntarily as he imagined having to fight for his wife.

“I don’t want any trouble, Bucky. I don’t want our peace to be disturbed. I don’t want you to have to fight again, at all.”

“At least then I’d be fighting for something I actually care about, and someone I’m knees-deep in love with.” Bucky sat her on his lap, his blue eyes gazing into hers.

Heat rose to her cheeks and tears to her eyes before she pressed her lips to Bucky’s, “thank you, my love.”

“Copycat,” Bucky teased, “you got nothing to thank me for, little human. I got your back. Always.”

“I’m still grateful,” she pecked his lips, “and even if I don’t end up having a stand in the market, your support will forever be enough for me, Bucky.” She gave him a passionate kiss, trying to convey her feelings through it.

She couldn’t believe how lucky she had turned out to be.

How many human husbands would support their wives’ dreams like that? How often were women even allowed to think about doing something for themselves or being financially independent in this kingdom?

She slowly slid off her orc’s lap and down to the floor, making Bucky tilt his head.

“What are you doing, sweet thing?”

“You promised you would teach me,” she said, her voice small as she let her hands massage up Bucky’s thighs.

“Oh, you feeling brave tonight, little human?” Bucky asked lowly, eyes growing dark as she brought her hand to his cock over his pants.

She nodded even though she internally had no idea what to do, but she was trusting her desire and Bucky’s guidance.

“Get your orc’s cock out then,” Bucky instructed, making her pussy clench before her eager fingers started pushing his pants down, revealing his big cock to her eyes.

Her hands hesitated, reaching for his length before withdrawing and looking at Bucky for help, shifting on her knees.

Bucky got up from the chair and she looked at him worriedly, afraid she had turned him off with her reluctance.

He returned to his seat after a second, pushing the pillow he brought with him under his wife’s knees as he helped her get comfortable.

She smiled gratefully at how loving and attentive Bucky was. He had his cock out but all he cared about was that her knees weren’t hurting on the wooden floor.

Gods, she got lucky.

“You can touch me, sweet thing.” Bucky encouraged softly.

She mustered up her courage and finally let her fingers wrap around Bucky’s cock. Well, try to wrap around his cock.

He was too big for her to be able to wrap her hand around him and it made Bucky’s cock twitch, seeing how small her hand was compared to his size.

She couldn’t believe she had managed to take all of him in her pussy every single night for the past week.

She had to use both of her hands before simultaneously squeezing them around her orc’s cock like he had previously shown her; it was the only thing she knew how to do.

Bucky’s jaw went slack as he threw his head back at the simple touch, “move your hands up and down, little human.”

“Like that?” She asked as she slowly followed the instructions.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck yes,” Bucky moaned, wrapping his hands around hers, pumping himself harder with her hands.

She watched as Bucky closed his eyes in pleasure, deep groans leaving his chest and pre-cum the tip of his cock because of her touch.

She wanted to ask permission but her instincts moved faster than her mind as she cautiously let her the tip of her tongue swipe against the head of Bucky’s cock, aching to know what he tasted like.

And oh did he taste good; a bit musky, a bit salty and a bit of something she could only identify as Bucky. It was addictive and she wanted more.

Bucky jumped above her, his cock jerking in her hands as he opened his eyes at the tiny lick he felt her give his cock.

“Was that the wrong thing to do?” She asked, unsure of her moves, “I thought it was okay for me to put my mouth there?” she hesitated shyly, suddenly embarrassed of her neediness.

“It is. It is more than okay, my love. Please do it again,” Bucky begged, his hand coming down to cup her cheek, thumb stroking her skin adoringly as he brought her face closer to his cock.

He was sure she and her innocence were going to be the death of him, yet at the same time, he couldn’t wait to ruin her; make her his dirty little cock slut of a wife.

She tentatively let the tip of her tongue lick against the head of Bucky’s cock again, keeping her eyes on him.

Bucky groaned, his abdomen tensing as he felt himself already close.

He couldn’t believe how embarrassingly ready to burst she had managed to have him every time she touched him or as much as moaned for him. He could go for hours before, but with her it was like she knew exactly which buttons to press to get him drooling and leaking for her, and yet, she didn’t. Not at all, really.

She gave a bigger lick, letting herself savor her orc’s taste this time, moaning as she put her mouth on his tip, suckling ever so softly.

Bucky was huge and getting him inside her mouth like she felt she wanted to was going to be a challenge, but she wasn’t one to back down from challenges. Not anymore.

She was going to make Bucky feel good and she was going to do it with her mouth.

She could barely get the tip past her lips and it was already too much for her untrained mouth. Tears gathered in her eyes when Bucky involuntarily jerked his hips forward, making her gag on his cock.

“I’m so sorry, my love—” Bucky quickly pulled out of her mouth, worry written all over his face.

“Don’t be, Bucky. I— I kinda liked it.” She confessed, heat spreading on her cheeks.

“Oh, you liked choking on my cock, little human?” Bucky teased darkly as he pumped himself and she nodded shyly.

“Can I try again?” She asked, voice small and timid.

“All yours, sweet thing.”

She put her mouth back on the tip, feeling proud of herself as she managed to properly suck on it without her teeth getting in the way.

Bucky’s cock was so big and it was certainly testing for her to take another inch into her mouth but she did it, softly moaning on her orc’s length as she tasted more of his precum on her tongue.

“Keep using your hands, little human,” Bucky instructed, her mouth feeling heavenly on his cock.

She listened right away, her hands pumping up and down the inches she couldn’t yet fit into her mouth.

“Good girl,” Bucky groaned wantonly, “you’re so good for me, sweet thing.”

Bucky’s encouragement made her want to do better, to do more for him.

She pulled off of him for one second, taking a long breath as Bucky watched her with hooded eyelids.

And when she was ready, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, taking half of Bucky’s cock down her throat all at once.

“Gods, fuck!” He exclaimed, barely holding himself back from lurching over and shoving the whole thing down her warm wet throat as his hand flow to cup the back of her head.

She kept one hand on Bucky’s length as the other moved down to touch her own heat.

The sounds coming out of Bucky, his taste and the way his cock was making her drool as she choked on it were driving her up the wall with need.

She has never touched herself before and she didn’t know what has gotten into her as she slipped her hand down her panties, trying to imitate Bucky’s touches on her clit. Her fingers couldn’t compare, but she was throbbing, every sound that left Bucky’s chest vibrated in her clit; made her ache needily.

Bucky was turning to putty in her hands and it was the hottest thing she has ever witnessed.

She whined on Bucky’s cock and it made him open his eyes, realizing that she had now one hand only pumping him as the other disappeared under her dress.

“Are you touching yourself, little human?” Bucky chuckled breathily, making her whine in embarrassment.

Yet, her hand rubbed her clit even faster.

“Is sucking my cock making you all needy, sweet thing? Hmm? Can’t be around this fat cock without aching for it?”

She moaned in agreement, basically gurgling on Bucky’s fat cock as she forced herself to take another inch of him down her throat, making him grunt.

“Atta girl!” Bucky shouted in pleasure as he started to move in and out of her mouth, her allowing him to give her a little more of his thick cock every time he would slide back down her throat.

She continued breathing through her nose and circled her clit faster, feeling herself get closer to her release as her lower stomach tensed and tightened.

“Relax that throat for me, little human. There you go, good girl.”

Bucky was holding her head with both hands now, trying not to crane her neck back too much as he angled his hips just right for the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat.

She gagged harshly and Bucky pulled out to give her a chance to breathe, “take your time, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” he reassured, rubbing her back lovingly as she coughed and heaved.

“Again,” was all she said before she took his cock back in her mouth all the way down her throat that her nose was almost touching Bucky’s abs.

She let Bucky fuck her throat again, grateful for his gentleness as his balls hit her chin with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweet thing. So pretty taking my cock all the way down your throat like that.”

Bucky knew the exact second she came as her whines hummed on his cock while she let her orgasm take over. Her jaw went slack in his hand and he took the chance to quicken his pace, chasing his own orgasm.

“Fuck, little human, you’re a natural. Taking me so well— ahhh fuck. Just like that.”

Bucky almost roared as he came down her throat, smirking appreciatively as he felt her swallow around him, spluttering a little as he slowly pulled out.

He couldn’t be prouder of how hungry for his cock he had managed to make his little human as he watched her swallow every drop she could before the rest of Bucky’s cum ran down her lips, chin, neck and dress, his cock still throbbing at the sight of her covered in his cum; willingly claimed.

She let her butt touch the pillow underneath her knees as her body sagged, gasping and trying to catch her breath.

Her jaw was hurting like a bitch but she didn’t care. She has made Bucky lose it with her mouth and her mouth alone.

She suddenly felt her face go hot as the hand in her panties reminded her of what she had done while sucking her orc’s cock. She took her hand out of her underwear, quickly hiding it behind her back as if that would make everything she just did disappear.

Bucky laughed, putting his pants back on before cupping her cheeks as he got down on his knees before her, “what did I say, little human? Never hide from me.” He took her hand out from behind her back and brought her fingers to his face.

Bucky obscenely smelled her fingers, closing his eyes at the scent of her before wrapping his lips around them, lewdly moaning as he tasted the remnants of her juices on them.

Her face burned up as her lust was sated, leaving shyness to gnaw at her cheeks.

“Did— did you like that?” She croaked out, her voice hoarse, as he finished sucking on her fingers, desperately wanting to change the subject.

“Oh, sweet thing, I loved it.” Bucky smiled, satisfied and amazed by her, “you almost sucked my soul out of my cock there, little human.”

She giggled, blushing.

“And you touching yourself while giving me head? Damn, sweet thing! Who would’ve known?!” Bucky teased, making her sigh and hide her face in her hands.

“No, no, little human, it’s a good thing,” he laughed, taking her hands in his, “it was so fucking hot.”

“Really?”

Gods, how were her eyes still so innocent after what she had just done to him?

“Really.” Bucky smiled, kissing her knuckles.

“Thank you for letting me do it, Bucky, and for guiding me,” she said sincerely before throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him as she released a happy sigh.

Bucky just couldn’t wrap his mind around how perfect she was or how blessed he was.

She was thanking him for agreeing to ravish her with his cock. Truth was, he was the one who should thank her every day just for being his.

Bucky, the half-orc, seemed to have found and claimed jackpot.

“Thank you, little human.” Bucky turned his head to kiss her hair, “thank you for everything.”

True to his word, Bucky had done everything in his power to make her dream come true. He worked hard to get her a permit from the kingdom for a new stall in the market, using his previous status in the army to get them to sign and stamp those papers as soon as possible.

He had also designed and built her stand all by himself, making sure to make her a smooth counter for her elbows and real sturdy shelves to hold her jam jars.

And he knew exactly what he was going to engrave on the sign for her tiny shop.

Meanwhile, she and Sarah were browsing the nearby markets to pick a fruit supplier with which she could be comfortable. They had managed to find a kind old man who always had a display of the seasonal fruits in his shop. His fruits were ripe and fresh at all times and they had come to a fair agreement regarding the prices and the monthly supply they would need him to provide.

Then it was time to shop for utensils and Sarah had insisted on dragging Sam along for that one because there was no way the two women could carry that much stuff on their own. He left Bucky to continue working on the final touches on the stand and reluctantly joined the ladies.

She was the happiest as she picked new pots and sauce pans with Sarah as well as the cute little glass jars she would need to put the jam into.

Her life was coming together and she couldn’t be more thankful for everything and everyone she had.

She had an amazing husband and supportive, kind friends; a little family to call her own other than the one that had abandoned her long ago.

The group tried their best to haggle the prices on everything because she didn’t want Bucky to have to spend too much, seeing that he had insisted on paying for everything.

“I’m not negotiating, it’s either the price I asked for or we won’t take anything from you!”

Her head snapped up, dropping the ladles she was browsing when she heard Sam ‘haggling’ with the seller.

She had found things here that she couldn’t find anywhere else and she really liked them. Why was Sam sabotaging her shopping plan?

She grabbed onto her favorite pot as she walked over to the siblings.

“Sam, what are you doing? I’ve already picked like a billion things,” she whispered to the man, afraid that he was ruining a good bargain.

“Watch and learn,” Sarah whispered back to her with a reassuring smile, “you’re right, Sam. Let’s go. Thank you, we won’t be taking those. You can put them back, thanks.”

Her mouth was wide open as Sarah forcefully took the pot out of her hand, setting it down and grabbing her, dragging her to walk away.

“Guys, what are you doing?” She scream-whispered as they kept walking, leaving everything that she had carefully hand-picked behind.

“Okay, fine, wait!” The seller called for them before they could get too far, “you can have them— I’ll give them to you at the price you wanted!”

She looked at the Wilsons with an impressed smile and they smiled back, raising their eyebrows simultaneously as if to say “told you so”, making her laugh.

When they were finally done with everything they needed, they had made Sam carry most of the bags as she and Sarah waltzed back to a more feminine shop.

When they were finally done, Sam wanted to run back to his and Bucky’s shop before they could buy anything else, but he was carrying way too many things so he only made both ladies laugh as he looked like a pregnant penguin hoping over to the truck.

“You look happy. Did you get everything you needed, my love?” Bucky asked with a chuckle as she excitedly wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek as soon as she entered the shop.

“Yes.” She nodded with a smile, pecking her orc’s lips.

“Were these guys any help?” He nodded to the siblings, teasing them.

“We can hear you, you know!” Sam yelled from the supply closet as he set the last bag inside.

“Sarah and Sam were great help.” She softly slapped Bucky’s chest, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them.” She smiled at Sam gratefully before running to hug Sarah.

“Anything for you, bestie. I’ve been around boys for too long and I’m so glad I get to have a fellow woman around here now.”

She giggled as Sarah hugged her back, imagining how lonely it must have been for her to only be surrounded by males.

“Hey! We’re great company!” Sam said, waving a finger at his sister.

“Sure you are, Samuel.” Sarah nodded until Sam had turned his head away, “I swear if I didn’t work here I wouldn’t have forced myself to put up with all the burping and farting.”

She chocked on a laugh as both Sam and Bucky glared at Sarah before she decided to dissolve the ‘tension’, “okay, okay, let’s eat!”

She got out the food she had prepared for everyone, chuckling as she handed Sam his meal after he made grabby hands at the wrapped box.

“Bucky, leave it for now and come eat,” she called for her husband when he saw he was too busy working down a plaque of wood.

“Almost done, sweet thing,” he mumbled, still focused on what he was doing.

Bucky looked like a masterpiece with his hair back in a low bun and the tip of his tongue out, hanging on a tusk as he fixated on the work at hand.

She couldn’t help but walk over and wrap her arms around him from behind, lovingly kissing his back.

The orc stopped his movements, smiling when he felt her tiny mouth press kiss after kiss to his back.

He turned around to face her, encasing her in his strong embrace as he leaned down to kiss her sweet lips.

“Your food is gonna get cold,” she whispered against Bucky’s lips.

“Let it get cold,” he said before deepening their kiss, holding her by the back of her head to bring her closer.

“Some people are trying to eat over here!” Sam shouted with his mouth full as Sarah playfully made gag noises.

Bucky groaned as she shyly pulled away from his lips, making her laugh when he whispered “I hate you” to Sam.

Things at the market have gone exactly like Bucky has feared.

It was her very first day, her stand was in place like Bucky had put it and she and Sarah were organizing the jars on the shelves as the men watched them with scowls.

She tried her best not to care. The wooden sign saying “Sweet Things” on top was shining in the sunlight and with it her smile.

Everything was going smoothly until both she and Sarah left the stand for a minute to go get the rest of the boxes off of Sam’s truck.

It was just one minute but it was enough for those who didn’t want her there to make it known.

When she came back, her glass jars were all on the ground, smashed to pieces, the jam she had spent last night making staining the gravel.

She was speechless, hurt and confused at some people’s ability to be so venomous and mean.

She saw Cole holding as many jars as he could in his arms, sighing when he saw her, “I tried to stop them. I’m so sorry.”

She felt her chest tighten as her eyes welled up.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” Sarah whispered in her ear as she could see tears gathering in her lash line.

“I would never,” she replied strongly, setting the box in her arms down on the counter of her booth with a clenched jaw.

“Who did this?” She asked, her voice loud and powerful.

She got no answer so she decided to provoke whoever had done this into coming forward, “so what you’re manly enough to smash down jam jars, but not so much when it comes to owning up to it?”

“We all did it!” The man from the clothing stall shouted.

“Yeah, we don’t want you here! Women weren’t made to work!” The man from the key cutting stand continued.

“And who decided that exactly?” She yelled back to them, hands on her waist rebelliously.

“It’s just how the world works, sweetheart. Work just isn’t for women,” the man from the clothing stall replied with a challenging smile as he gestured to the broken glass by her feet.

“Oh, it isn’t? That’s weird! Because last time I checked, women worked their butts off all day long cleaning, cooking, and taking care of children at houses that aren’t even their own just to go back home at the end of the day and do it all over again for free while you sat on your lazy asses!”

Everyone stood there stunned, her response crushing them into silence. None of them could remember the last time a woman had dared use such a tone with them, let alone use curse words in her speech.

“But it’s fine when women don’t get to take the money for their work, right? Women can work as long as you receive their pay money each month, no? They’re allowed to work as long as their money isn’t their own and their dignity is kept under your shoes, aren’t they?!” She lashed out, surprising herself, Sarah, everyone around and a very impressed Bucky, who was standing at the end of the market as she let her voice get loud, talking back to men.

He just thought he would stop by, unable to keep his worry at bay. And when he heard the men’s voices get loud in her face, he thought he would intervene; defend her, but his little human didn’t seem like she needed any defending. Not one bit.

She was putting those assholes in their places all by herself.

“Lower your voice, woman! Or have you been around that savage brute of yours too much that you’ve forgotten how to properly speak?”

“Hey!” Bucky barked, stomping over to the man who had dared disrespect him and his wife, his fists already balling.

“Oh you’re gonna come for my orc now?!” Her shout stopped Bucky before he could punch the man’s nose off, “where were you again when my orc was fighting for this kingdom? Where were you when he took it upon himself to keep everyone here safe? Oh, wait, right! Sitting on your lazy ass!”

“How dare you talk to us like that? You think you get to be this audacious because you let a half-orc bed you?!”

“Watch your tongue when you’re talking to my wife,” Bucky snarled in the man’s face before she gently held him back.

“At least he knows how to take care of a woman!” She said proudly, “my orc is more of a husband to me than any of you pathetic wimps could ever be to your women!”

Bucky couldn’t help the warm smile replacing his scowl at her words. He couldn’t believe she was defending him like that, saying such words about him, in the middle of the market.

“He treats me like a queen. He has never laid a hand on me and when he makes me scream, he makes me scream for all the right reasons.” She growled, looking the rude man right in the eye as she stressed every word in the end of her sentence.

The man swallowed hard, her words clearly hitting him where it hurt.

She smiled victoriously, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a jam stand to run and if any of you as much as thinks of pulling anything like this again, my husband here will have the rest of the kingdom hear your screams for a change.” She warned fearlessly, her gaze running over each and every seller in the market.

“For all the right reasons.” Bucky promised, harshly squeezing the man’s shoulder in his flesh fist.

She giggled, nodding with a wide grin before walking to the truck to get the sweep she had packed beforehand.

“Now I know why you insisted on bringing that with you!” Sarah laughed in amazement.

She laughed with her best friend as they both walked back to her stand where a very proud Bucky was still standing guard.

It was sad that she had expected such actions; that she expected that someone was going to try and destroy her work, but she was still glad they did it early enough for her to set them straight. She now had a place in that market, and she wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Once she reached the booth, Bucky took the broom out of her hand and threw it to Sarah, settling his hands on her waist.

“Hi,” she smiled, finally able to properly greet her husband, slipping a loose strand of hair behind his pointed ear.

“Hi,” Bucky replied fondly, leaning her back in a tender dip, making her laugh before he claimed her lips in a passionate, lingering kiss in front of everyone watching.

They had lost themselves in the kiss so much that when they finally pulled away, Sarah had finished sweeping away the glass, Cole helping her get rid of the shards so that they wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Bucky grunted when he noticed Cole standing there, the man shivering under the orc’s intense gaze.

She squeezed Bucky’s hand in hers before giving Cole a grateful smile, “thank you for everything you’ve done, Cole. We appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me,” Cole blushed, “it wasn’t right what they did.”

Bucky snarled, teeth and fists clenched as he silently told the man to back off.

“I’ll— I’ll be by the flowers if you guys need me,” Cole said hastily, practically running out of Bucky’s face, the orc’s gaze following him until he was gone.

“Bucky,” she said, shaking his hand in hers, “he was just helping!”

“We don’t need his help,” he growled, still angry that another man was able to offer his wife help before him.

“I don’t and will never need anyone but you,” she told him, getting on her tiptoes to peck the orc’s frowny lips.

“Promise me not to talk to him again,” Bucky grumbled like a kid on her lips, refusing to let her kiss him.

She shook her head with a smile, “I promise.”

“No, say the whole thing.”

She laughed aloud, hiding her face in his chest, “I promise not to talk to Cole again. Happy?”

“Very.” Bucky finally smiled again, kissing her properly.

The next few days were very busy for both of them. She was trying to build herself a good name in the market and Bucky had this huge bulk order of chairs and desks for the new school. It didn’t help that Sarah was helping her with her jam stand because that meant that Sam and Bucky had to get everything done on their own.

She and Bucky barely saw each other all week, meeting only on the bed to exhaustedly fall asleep in each other’s arms at nights. They couldn’t even have breakfasts together because Bucky would be up and out way earlier than her.

Which meant he never saw her during her morning sickness.

And as much as she craved Bucky’s care, she was still happy in a way that he wasn’t here for the daily puke because that meant she could surprise him with the news she so bad hoped to be true.

She had told Sarah when it happened for the third day in a row, unable to keep her happiness or nervousness to herself.

She was probably pregnant, with Bucky’s baby. All the signs were there and she couldn’t be more contented.

They didn’t tell anyone, but today during lunch time, Sarah was accompanying her on her visit to the midwife just to make sure before she went ahead and broke the news to Bucky.

And when the midwife had confirmed hers and Sarah’s suspicions, the whole world couldn’t contain her happiness if it tried.

She was carrying Bucky’s baby inside of her. She was making a family with the orc of her dreams!

She was too excited that she wanted to just run to the shop and tell Bucky right away, but no, this had to be special. As special as the news itself.

And that was how she found Sarah and herself walking towards Cole’s flower stand.

“You’ll ask for them.”

“Why me? I’m not the pregnant one!” Sarah argued, stopping.

“Please, Sarah, you know I promised Bucky,” she whined, giving her friend the best puppy eyes she could pull.

“I’m sure Bucky didn’t mean that literally! He just didn’t want you flirting with the man.”

“Oh believe me, he meant it literally.”

“Still no.”

“Please, Aunt Sarah,” she begged, rubbing her flat belly.

“Ugh fine, but only for the sweet orcling inside of you!”

She giggled, giving Sarah a hug before they continued walking to the flower stand, “thank you, Aunt Sarah.”

“Good afternoon, Cole,” Sarah started, “we’re gonna need one of you freshest—”

“Mom!” A smaller voice called out, making Sarah turn around at once.

“AJ! What are you doing here, boy? Where’s your brother?” Sarah asked worriedly.

“He fell down— we were just playing soccer—” AJ stuttered, scared of his mom’s reaction.

“Where is your brother?”

“He’s at the infirmary. The doctor asked for you…” AJ replied faintly, his head down in shame.

“Oh my— I’m so sorry. I need to go.” Sarah told her as she ran with AJ out of the market.

“It’s okay, go. I’ll come with Bucky later to see how he’s doing,” she replied with a worried nod.

“So,” Cole broke the silence and only then did she realize that she has been standing there by his booth watching Sarah and AJ leave for at least 30 seconds.

“Oh— well…” She fumbled with her hands, not sure if she should talk to him.

She knew she promised Bucky, but this was kind of for Bucky too, and neither she nor Cole were flirting, so what was the harm?

“I need your freshest forget-me-not, please.” She gave the man her order with a polite smile.

“You got it.” Cole nodded before kneeling down to fetch her the prettiest, most alive forget-me-not plant she has ever seen, “how about this gal here?”

“She’s perfect!” She smiled, almost jumping in place because she could see Bucky’s face when she gave him the flower with the news she had.

She was too busy paying for her plant to notice Bucky watching her from a distance or notice him leaving at the sight of her smiling while talking to the one man he made her promise not to talk to.

“You came back early!” Sam commented upon seeing his friend reenter the shop less than 15 minutes after he had left.

“Yeah, couldn’t find her. Probably went to lunch out with Sarah,” Bucky lied, setting his packed food down before picking up his axe.

“We don’t need any more wood—”

“I don’t care.” Bucky stormed off to the lumberyard, ready to take his feelings out on the dead trees.

“Those chairs aren’t gonna make themselves ya know! I’m not a machine!” Sam yelled after him but it all fell on deaf ears.

Bucky was angry.

He just wanted to have a sweet lunch with his wife, but instead he was welcomed by a scene from his worst nightmare.

Did she do that all the time? How many times has she broken her promise to him? Was it because he was busy those past few days? He thought she was busy too; he didn’t know it could be affecting her that much…

But no. She wouldn’t do that. She promised him and Bucky trusted and trusts her.

Bucky shook his head as he stopped in his tracks, turning around as he flipped his axe in the air. He trusted his wife.

He wasn’t going to be that husband because they were not that couple.

When Bucky had walked back to the shop, she was there, waiting for him with her heart pounding in her throat.

He wanted to take the frown off his face, but he couldn’t do it fast enough.

“Where’s Sam?” He wondered, trying to hide his feelings.

“He had to go to Sarah and the boys. Cass got hurt while playing.” She explained in a hurry, the news she actually came for pressing on her.

“Bucky, I need to talk to you,” she said before she could change her mind, nervousness etched all over her soft features.

Bucky’s heart sank. Was she leaving him?

“I wanted to wait until we got home, but I couldn’t wait!” She smiled, eyes lighting up as she spoke.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t leaving him. She wouldn’t be this joyful about leaving him, would she?

“Is everything okay, sweet thing?” Bucky asked, becoming nervous himself.

She took his hand and led him to his chair before making herself comfortable on his lap with a bag in her own.

Yeah, she wasn’t leaving him.

“I wanna confess something first.”

“I’m listening,” Bucky said, his voice strained because he could guess where this was going.

“I broke my promise to you today, but only today, I swear. And I’m sorry,” she held his hand in one of hers, eyes begging him not to be upset with her, “I had to speak to Cole.”

“Really? You had to? Why did you possibly have to speak to Cole?” Bucky snapped, unable to control his anger.

“I understand why you’re upset and I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand to her heart, “I asked Sarah to do it for me, but AJ came and got her because Cass got hurt and so I had to ask Cole for this.” She brought out the potted forget-me-not, “all on my own”.

“If you wanted blue flowers you could have asked me and I would have planted millions for you,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.

He was happy that they had a healthy relationship where she felt safe enough to come and tell him about this, but he wasn’t happy with what she was telling him.

He could be a farmer!

“That would’ve been too late and too early at the same time.” She shrugged with a small grin.

“Little human, you’re not making much sense right now.”

“Forget-me-nots take from a month and a half to two months to grow. It would’ve been too late for me to tell you the news I got them to tell you and too early for—”

She got up and set the plant on Bucky’s desk before resituating herself on his lap with her dress up so that she was straddling him.

“It would’ve been too early for the baby to come.”

“What? What baby?” Bucky asked dumbly, his brain short circuiting at the news.

“I’m pregnant, my love,” she whispered, her eyes tearing up.

“You’re— you’re pregnant?”

She nodded, tears rolling down her soft cheeks, “I’m pregnant.”

“With my baby.” Bucky pointed to himself, making her chuckle.

“With your baby.”

Without introductions, Bucky pressed his lips to her in a kiss so passionate that it left her dizzy.

“Our baby,” Bucky whispered on her lips, cupping her cheek as he put his forehead to hers, letting his tears run.

Bucky’s flesh hand moved to caress her belly, “you have given me everything, sweet thing. Everything.”

“I love you, Bucky.” She wiped her orc’s tears before wrapping her arms around him, burrowing her face in his neck, breathing in his calming scent.

“I love you even more, little human.”

“We’re gonna have an actual little human soon and the name won’t be exclusively mine anymore,” she joked, chuckling on his warm skin.

“You will always be my little human,” Bucky told her seriously, bringing her gaze back to his, “we’re just gonna have a littler human.”

She laughed aloud as Bucky wiped away her tears.

“We’re gonna be so happy, aren’t we?” She asked with a big smile, her heart full.

“Yes, we are.” Bucky promised, sealing it with another kiss.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she told Bucky the second they broke the kiss, making him smile like an idiot.

“Ditto.”

“Oh my gods, you’re so human!”

Bucky laughed with her before asking “forget-me-nots?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to forget about me between the hills of chairs and desks and they could also symbolize a sense of permanence, commitment, and familial bond. It was in one of the books you got me when we first got married.” She pretended to flip her hair away as she spoke confidently.

Bucky smiled, her words reassuring his heart more than she could ever know. She didn’t say when you first took me or when they first sent me, she said when ‘we first got married’.

She had fully, lovingly accepted Bucky and this marriage and it was time for Bucky to accept it all himself, too. It was time for him to accept that he was loved and chosen and cared about by this woman in his lap.

“I could never forget about you, sweet thing.” Bucky kissed her forehead, silently thanking her for way more than just a potted plant.

“I got you something else.” She rummaged through the bag, bringing out an amethyst male ring.

“What’s that one for?” Bucky asked, looking at her fondly.

“That’s for protection, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself while working again,” she told him with a smile as she slipped the ring on his flesh finger.

Bucky looked at her, all the love in the world held in his stare, “thank you, little human.”

He kissed the ring on his finger and after it her lips.

She loved Bucky and that was the only truth he needed to believe in.

Bucky loved her and that was the only fact that mattered to him.

She and Bucky were expecting their first baby and that was the only reality any of them wanted to live.

Tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe @a-very-fictional-girl @justabeluga

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bigtreefest · 2 days

Text

A What in Church?

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader (can be read as a continuation of Meet The Parents or alone)

Summary: Ransom comes with you and your family to church…and then comes with you at church 🥴 (I’m sorry, but I had to)

Word count: 2,728

Content/warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, SMUT, near-fingering, p in v unprotected sex (pls, for the love of all that is holy, wrap it up), sex in front of a mirror, sex in a church😬, creampie, established relationship, swears, Ran is a sneaky li’l gaslighter but not towards you, lying in Church?, kissing, pet name usage, choking on one’s own saliva, implied female reader, li’l belly bulge

A/N: I hope God forgives me for thinking this up during church…

This is for the Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza set up by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18 with the prompts of characters cum together at the same time and praise.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

It was early Sunday morning when you dragged Ransom out of bed.

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, come on. You have to get up. We’re already running late and I’m not dealing with disapproving looks from my parents for punctuality. It’s already bad enough every time the church ladies give me a side eye when I show up.”

He sighed as he rolled over in his high thread count sheets, the sunlight now hitting his face causing him to squint. He looked at you through one open eye as he made a light scowl.

“Sweetheart, come back to bed. It’s too early. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” A sly smirk crept onto his face as he reached out and pulled your hips closer to the bed.

You put a hand on his forehead, trying your best and failing to push him away. “Ransom, no. The only reason I stayed over was to make sure we got there on time. My parents think you’re picking me up right now and neither of us are even showered. If you get up now, maybe I’ll let you join me. Then we can get going.”

His arms snaked from your hips and around to give your ass a squeeze. “Hm….deal.” He rasped out in his groggy voice before shifting to get up.

“Whose idea was it to join your family at the 8am service of church this week, anyway?” Ransom threw the covers off the side of the bed in a mini tantrum before rising on his knees on the mattress to be face-to-face with you. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly smoothing out the bed head before giving him a peck.

“Yours, baby. That’s what you get for trying to impress my mom.”

You fixed your makeup in the mirror of Ransom’s Beamer and smoothed down your baby blue linen dress after Ransom parked in the church parking lot. You turned to look at him as you straightened the collar of his shirt that peeked over his sweater.

“You look absolutely dapper. The church ladies are gonna love you. Probably enough for them to keep their judgy eyes off me. Now let’s just hope they don’t start asking my mom about a wedding date.” You grumbled the last part as you brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders before leaning back towards your own seat again and placing your hand on the door handle.

Ransom didn’t move a muscle as he sat there, leaning over the center console, with a look as deep at the ocean. That was weird. You’d expected him to have his cocky game face on, which he did, but his eyes showed something different.

“What? Is something wrong? Do I not look okay? Are you regretting agreeing to come along today?”

He sighed and shook his head before holding out his hand for yours. “No, you look heavenly. I am regretting sleeping in because if I wouldn’t have, maybe you would’ve actually let me touch you in the shower. I thought a shower with you meant with you, but you tricked me, you minx.”

You softly smiled at the beginning of his statement, placing your hand in his. As he kept going, you rolled your eyes before playfully shoving his shoulder. “Oh please. You and I both know you wouldn’t have gotten up for anything else. And if I would’ve let you touch me, we’d still be at your place.”

He shrugged before pulling you closer for a final kiss before heading in. It was the kind that left you breathless and speechless, and a little dizzy when he pulled away, but that could have been due to skipping breakfast, too. Your eyes were still closed when he spoke against your lips. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this that easily, though. Now stay here while I get your door. Gotta make sure the church ladies see me treating you well.”

Your jaw dropped as he gave you a smirk, fire rising in his gaze as he slipped out of the driver’s side and over to yours.

Ransom held your hand as he walked into the church, sliding into a pew near the back where your family had saved the two of you a seat. It was just in time for the service to begin. You were simultaneously filled with relief for not being late, but also anxiousness. You knew that when he held that look in his eye, Ransom was up to no good.

If someone had asked you what you’d gathered from the sermon so far, your answer would be ‘jack shit.’ You were too focused on Ransom, and the way his hand was creeping up your leg as he stared straight ahead. He looked enthralled by whatever the preacher was dragging on and on about, but you knew better from the way his lips curled just slightly at the corners and his ringed pinky finger was sliding under the hem of your dress. The cool metal gave you chills. Your breath hitched, just as you were salivating, imagining what Ransom could possibly have in store for you. Unfortunately, that didn’t make for a good combination, as you choked on your own saliva.

You tried your hardest to hold in your coughs, eyes watering, until you couldn’t take it anymore. They burst out of you and the sound of your coughs, one after another, echoed through the nearly silent room as you scrambled to get up and into the hallway. Ransom shot your parents a sympathetic look before wordlessly gesturing that he was going to check up on you. They nodded in response, glad you had found someone so caring and responsible.

You burst through the doors at the back of the room with Ransom hot on your heels. You fast walked into the family restroom and Ransom slipped in behind you. He locked the door and made his way to your hunched over form, your arms bracing you against the sink as you continued coughing and heaving, trying to catch your breath. Ransom rubbed your back in soothing circles until you took a final gasp for air and looked up at his reflection in the mirror with a scowl.

“You did this. This is your fault, Mr. Handsy.” It came out with the slightest rasp. Ransom’s face morphed from slight concern into suggestion. Now that he had made sure you were okay, he was more than happy to have you exactly where he wanted you all along: alone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not the one out there snorting my spit. I could probably successfully swallow, unlike you.” He knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to rile you up so you’d give in to him now since you didn’t earlier this morning. You’d never outwardly crumble that easily, though. Where was the fun in that?

“First off, you should be the one to know I’m great at swallowing. And secondly, if you believe you did nothing wrong, I think we should find you a neurologist for those wandering hands. Maybe the rings are causing nerve damage and cutting off the feeling in your fingertips.” Ransom couldn’t help but let out a small chortle at that. Good one, babe. But he knew what could push you a little farther. He knew how much you really did love the way his hands wandered, even if you’d say otherwise. He could tell right now even, as he shifted to stand behind you, soft fingertips tracing up the front of your thighs and under your flowy dress. His hand was in between your thighs, creeping dangerously close to your cotton panties. He used his grip to pull you back against him, eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“Oh honey, I don’t have to be able to feel my fingers to know how good they make you feel.” He ran his fingers over the dampening fabric as your breath hitched. Finally.

His grin grew wide as he slipped his pinky finger under the gusset of your panties and pulled it to the side, exposing your glistening folds to the cool air.

You hissed at the sensation as Ransom began running a finger through your wetness. If you were anywhere else but a church bathroom, he would have worked to pull even louder sounds from you than the tiny breaths and moans you were already making, but that’s not something that could be afforded right now. As his one hand continued to tease your entrance, the other moved to cover your mouth.

“Quiet, Sweetheart. You make a noise and I stop. Don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.” You nodded in acknowledgment and Ransom was satisfied with that response, kissing your temple that was collecting a thin shimmer from sweat already. Just as he was about to dip a finger in, though, the two of you heard music start. That meant service was almost over. They would play a few songs, and then everyone would rush out the doors, making it impossible for the two of you to leave the bathroom undetected and unsuspected of what was going on right now.

Ransom didn’t waste a second, though, pulling his hands off you to unzip his slacks and pull them down just low enough. His eyes locked in on yours in the mirror again, deep blue irises thin around lust and mischief-blown pupils.

“Sorry, sweetie. Don’t have time to prepare you. But you can handle that, right?” You didn’t have a chance to reply this time, as his hand found it’s place over your mouth again at the same time he fully sheathed himself within you.

The little squeak you made into Ransom’s hand when you were trying to hold back was music to his ears. Oooo, he liked that. He was gonna make sure to do whatever he could in the future so you’d make it again, but he didn’t have the time for it right now.

His hand that wasn’t over your mouth snaked to your tummy from where it was gripping your hip. Ransom could just barely feel the bulge pushing against your softness with each thrust and it drove him wild, as he sped up his thrusts and babbled into your ear.

“Yeah you can. You can take it. Look at you. Taking this so well. Being so good for me. I’d say you were an angel if we weren’t fucking like two whores in church right now.”

His vulgar words always did something to you, causing your eyes to roll back and your pussy to clench. That was Ransom’s favorite, especially when he found it out that his sharp tongue was something you actually enjoyed and rewarded him for, instead of punished. Despite his hand on your mouth, you were still working hard to keep yourself quiet, only letting out a low moan in response.

“Fuck, so good. So, gah-tight. You’re so perfect. I’m gonna take my hand off, okay? You gotta keep it down and I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You gripped harder against the sink as Ransom removed his hand, using it to hike your leg up on the edge of the counter, his hand that was previously on your stomach moving to rub your clit.

You gasped for air, before moving your own hand to your mouth. If you were at home, moans and curses would’ve been profusely spilling out of your mouth with how near your were to the tipping point. Ransom’s grunts in your ear we’re pulling you even closer to the edge when he licked your neck, the sweet taste of your perfume mixed with salty sweat hitting his tongue, and the debauchery of the gesture tossing you over the edge of your orgasm. Your knee gave out as you came, Ransom’s strong arms holding you up against the sink as you felt him swell and release in you at the same time, still rubbing your clit and shallowly thrusting for both of you to come down from your highs.

“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.” His breath was hot against your neck, but you were both pulled out of the post-orgasmic bliss by the sound of the music changing. The last song of service was playing and within a few minutes, everyone would be emerging into the hall.

Ransom pulled out of you faster than he had before, both of you moaning with oversensitivity and the abruptness of the action. You gained composure on your jelly legs before pulling your panties back into place and doing your best to fix your makeup in the mirror. Luckily, the smudges could be attributed to your coughing fit earlier, but Ransom’s rogue hairs that had flown forward and stuck to his forehead couldn’t. You quickly pushed them back into a decent position and straightened his collar before rushing into the hallway and taking a seat at an old pew that was next to a table with water bottles and cookies on it, set out for the social hour that always happened after service. Ransom grabbed a bottle and quickly chugged it down halfway, handing it to you just as the last song was ending.

“Here, hunch forward like you’re still recovering. And take this.” He was too good at convincing people of the scenes they had walked into. But how could you complain when it had gotten you out of trouble with the cops more times than you could count? Including after the two of you had been parked somewhere a little too long having car sex, or when he had driven just a little too recklessly while fingering you in the passenger seat. He always knew exactly how to manipulate the scene in his favor, convincing others to not believe their own eyes, but the stories he presented them instead. But he didn’t do it to you, never to you. He learned that the hard way, it’s better to be honest and do it with you. You were his teammate, who better to use his skills for than the one he loved? Bring it up though, and he’d deny it.

So you and Ransom sat there, your elbows on your knees and him rubbing circles on your back with his large, warm palm. Sure, it was performative, but it was also extremely comforting and reassuring, especially with the way he just rocked your world in the bathroom.

The church-goers began to file out of the double doors and into the hall. You looked up through your eyelashes to be greeted by your parents. They looked at you with confusion and a hint of concern when your dad crouched in front of you and your mom sat next to Ransom.

“Everything alright?” Your dad looked up into your eyes and you managed a nod, taking a sip from the water bottle and clearing your throat.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Got into a coughing fit and couldn’t shake it. Much better now.”

Ransom heard the clarity with which you spoke. If he really wanted to be convincing, he should’ve had you suck him off. There wasn’t really the time for that, though. As much as he loved watching your lips wrapped around him, he came way faster inside you, and how could he allow for the evidence of scuffs on your knees when you were wearing such a pretty dress? Maybe next time, when you were in jeans.

Ransom was pulled out of his thoughts when your mom and dad spoke, thanking him for checking up on you.

“Oh no problem, don’t worry, I took good care of your girl. I always will.”

They smiled, and must’ve believed the scene in front of them, as the topic swiftly changed to what they wanted for brunch plans. Ransom met your gaze, giving a quick wink for only you to see before kissing the top of your head and giving his input to the conversation.

That was the last you saw of him for half an hour, though, as the church ladies descended, squeezing themselves between the two of you, oohing and ahhhing over your sly boyfriend. Every now and then, as they’d ask him a tidal wave of questions, his eyes would seek you, full of fire, secrecy, and love, paired with that signature smirk on his face.

Bonus A/N: I think something that this extravaganza has taught me is that I have a thing for mirrors….and that scares me. It’s so hot in fics, and sure, every time I walk past a mirror in real life, I’ve been told I stop, but I wasn’t aware of what a dangerous combination that made until now. Lord save me, but he’s probably too angry at me now bc I wrote this.

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coltermorning · 2 days

Text

Of Love and Loss Ch. 14 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Another day in town reveals a deep-seated lack of worth within Arthur that you do your best to distract him from.

Author’s Notes: I’ve decided on a relative timeline for this story—about three years before the events of the game, hence Arthur’s age mentioned in this chapter. More alcohol consumption in this chapter. Chapter fourteen of this one. More notes at the end.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

Of Love and Loss

Fourteen: A Good Day’s Mischief

Word count: 5057

Still ain’t told me her name. Considering her drunken state last night, I doubt she remembers any promises well enough to keep them. Still, I was hoping to get it out of her while her judgement remained so poor. Now she’s back to herself—defiant and stubborn as she ever was.

You and Arthur had done all you’d set out to do, freshly laundered clothes in hand, horse and mule checked on, and bellies full. You could get used to a life like this. Especially the way the two of you walked side by side, quiet for all that had passed between you the night prior. Simply happy to be together. He may not have wanted you in the same way you wanted him, but after being held by him all through the night, feeling so protected and cared for, you didn’t care. That closeness was unlike anything, something you craved deep in your bones. You prayed you weren’t too obvious about that need, especially as you walked beside him now where you would normally follow along. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he kept that mild satisfaction on his face and walked on. It was all you could do not to smile like an idiot at his happiness—at knowing you were the one who put it there.

The two of you trudged up the creaking hotel steps and inside, Arthur nodding at the hotel owner just as he had the day before. It filled you with such a sense of familiarity you could hardly stand it.

Upon reaching the room, you immediately held out your hand for Arthur to give you his shirt.

“Let me sew that up, get this thread back to the hotel worker.”

Something passed over his expression you couldn’t place, but he did as you asked. And you were soon sewing the small separation shut with the same swiftness as before, glad his shirt was also blue so that the thread matched.

You finished and looked up to find him watching your hands.

“You’re good at that,” he said.

You passed the shirt over to him, tucking the needle and thread in your pocket. “I had lots of practice.”

He smiled—a soft, genuine thing compared to his usual smirk. It made him more handsome than any haircut could.

“Let me get this back downstairs,” you told him, patting your pocket. “Be right back.” And, when you headed for the door without a word of protest from him, you turned. “What, no quip about me being careful?” His gaze was on his shirt, his thumb running over the newly threaded mend. But when he caught you staring, he tossed it aside and cleared his throat.

“I thought that was implied.” All haughtiness returned.

You just grinned and left the room, nerves rearing at that same sense of familiarity that came from spending time with him. It was a dangerous thing to be so happy about—something that wouldn’t last.

Items returned, you reentered the bedroom to find Arthur looking out the window and smoking. His coat was once again shed, those broad shoulders on display. You had to keep yourself from staring.

He turned and offered you his cigarette.

“Never again,” you said, holding up your hand in refusal.

He chuckled. “Come on. It weren’t that bad.”

“Tell that to my lungs.”

The light in his eyes as they held on yours was deceiving. Partially because their genuineness reminded you of when he had kissed you, and you were filled with a hope you knew to be false because of it.

“You…wanna go back to the saloon?” he asked, voice careful like he realized what that look did to you.

“Maybe,” you said just as soft. “What else could we do while we’re in town?”

You thought you caught a tinge of red crossing his face before he turned back to the window, looking down to the street below. “There’s plenty of mischief for an outlaw to get into around these parts.”

Surprised, you pondered what that could possibly entail. “An outlaw, huh?”

He just lifted the cigarette to his lips again, not responding.

“As eager as I may be to see a bit of this world, I believe that’s where my sense of adventure ends.”

He looked at you then, a smirk lighting his eyes. “Please, do enlighten me on what you think I’m suggesting.”

“I, uh…” Truth be told, you had no idea. You’d thought he meant mischief beyond the arms of the law. For the both of you. “I guess I don’t know.”

He was really smiling then.

“What?”

“It’s a wonder we get along,” he said on a chuckle, smoke puffing out as he did.

“Do we?”

“Good point.” He leaned back against the window frame, one hand landing on his gun belt. Something about that relaxed grace of his made you want things you didn’t know how to want. He went on. “It’s just strange. Me, an outlaw, and you, skittish as a wild horse, not even knowing what that word means.”

“I know what it means.”

“Do you?”

“Outside of the law. Getting by on…thievery at best.”

“And at worst?”

Even though a small smile remained on his face, you could tell he cared about your answer. It was a loaded gun, that question. This circling conversation the pair of you never could seem to rid yourselves of.

He held your stare, and you held it right back. “That violence you showed me when those two men tried raiding our camp. What it could have turned into.”

“And what’s that?”

He wanted you to say it. Like he wanted you to fully understand—to hate him for it.

You stared at him a long time. Then, “I’m not scared of you, Arthur.” He made to laugh that off, so you pushed. “You’ve been awfully good to me for someone who wants to think himself so evil.”

That finally made him crack. He looked to his boots and let out the last of his laugh, smoke trailing in its wake. “Evil ain’t the right word.”

“What then?” You didn’t know you wanted to know him so badly until that very moment.

He turned back to the window and stood there a long time. It was only when you thought he wouldn’t answer that you heard his voice, deep yet small.

“Undeserving.”

The word tore through you. It was said with such sadness, such honesty, that you felt your chest cave knowing he wore that burden so heavily. Thinking himself truly beyond saving.

You could have consoled him in so many ways—namely by saying a worthless person wouldn’t worry themselves over whether they deserved good things. But you found yourself unable to get it out, unable to say a word. You just watched him in front of that window, smoke billowing up like old wounds finally brought forth—veiled and, consequently, impossible to staunch. It killed you to see that in him. It had you rethinking everything, every moment spent with him. You had been taking and taking and taking, never once thinking of his needs. So you vowed, right then and there, to begin.

“Let’s go, get out of here for a while.”

“Where?” he asked without facing you.

“Anywhere.”

He finished his cigarette, the stub short and burning in the noonday light.

“On one condition,” you amended.

He turned then, face clouded with something you couldn’t decipher.

“That you enjoy yourself.” He made to answer, but you interrupted. “And don’t lie and say you’ve been doing that already because you haven’t. Not while you’ve been so busy watching my back every second.”

He didn’t deny it.

“When’s the last time you quit worrying about everyone else? Did something for yourself?”

He let out a flat laugh. “Been a while.”

“Exactly. So come on and show me a good time, and stop babying me.”

“That ain’t-”

“Save it.” You opened the door and motioned for him to go ahead of you as dramatically as you could.

He rolled his eyes and made a big show of being annoyed, but you did know that much about him—all that gruffness was only that: show. So he gave in like you knew he would and was out the door in seconds.

You let Arthur lead the way this time, vowing to go where he went, to keep out of trouble. He must have really taken your word for it, for he soon walked straight into a saloon you hadn’t noticed before that was behind the hotel. It was…far from the likes of the Red Horse. Very far. But you were glad to see that Arthur wasn’t watching you for once, catering to you. Instead, he stepped up to the small, dingy bar and ordered a drink with a certain lightness in his step. He ordered you one too, but after seeing the state of the place, you didn’t feel like drinking from the dingy glasses he was handed. You gave him yours, and he only shrugged and started drinking both, propping himself against the bar top.

You took the time to note your surroundings—the piano player who kept missing notes not because of a lack of talent but because of a lack of keys. The few seedy-looking men who were already looking at you. You were immensely glad you hadn’t changed back into your own clothes, as their eyes hardly lingered on you any longer than they did Arthur. But the pair of you were strangers here, and with the way most of them huddled together in watchful silence, you could tell they frequented the place enough to call it their own. You and Arthur couldn’t say the same. And you felt the weight of their stares as a result of that long after turning away.

Arthur didn’t seem to mind the saloon’s company. In fact, if it weren’t for your being with him, you would be willing to bet he fit in around places like this. He seemed comfortable, less watchful, less shifty. It took you all of a heartbeat to decipher why, and the reason behind it both alarmed and saddened you—he was among like-minded people here. All shabby clothes and unkempt hair, guns on most patrons’ hips. You were willing to bet Arthur wasn’t the only man in the room who frequently found himself on the opposite side of the law. But more than that, it seemed he hadn’t enjoyed the company of the Red Horse as much because he felt he would never belong with those people. The more you looked around, the more you realized how abysmal Arthur’s self-worth was. He was worth ten of every man here. You didn’t even have to know them to know it—you could see it in their beady eyes. None of them would have helped you off that cliff bottom, but Arthur had. And you let him go on enjoying himself because of it, knowing any attempt to convince him of that worth would be futile. It would just anger him, and that was the opposite of the point of coming here. You instead thought of ways to help him keep his mind off things and grinned when an idea hit you.

“So.”

He turned to you. “Aww, don’t give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That one. Pure mischief if I ever seen it.”

“Isn’t that the point?” you asked, grin never fading. “You said it yourself. Plenty of mischief to get up to around here.”

He swigged down the rest of his drink and set it on the bar top, already waving at the bartender for another. “What did you have in mind?”

“You remember that little question game we played? With the gin?”

“Sure,” he said, not quite meeting your eye. Of course he did. It was hard to forget when the end result had been that kiss.

“I’ve got questions.”

“Here we go,” he muttered.

“I wasn’t properly…prepared last time. It was unfair from the start.”

“I let you ask me just as many questions as I asked you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but the caliber of questions was, well, tipped in your favor.”

“That so?” he asked, turning to you. The smug look on his face had you trying your best not to think of where the last game had led, because it was already getting difficult to resist wanting that again.

“They were,” you said simply.

“Well, fire away then.” He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “You already know enough to get me hanged. How much worse could you throw at me?”

You didn’t know enough to get the man hanged, for Christ’s sake, but you banished the thought before your confidence could be shaken. Instead, you started simple—with exactly the same thing he had.

“What’s something you never told anyone? Your deepest, darkest secret?”

“Deepest and darkest, huh?” he said, tilting his head back in thought and amusement.

You gave him time to think it over, knowing better than to tease him when you had the upper hand. He would just quit, and where would the fun be in that?

Whether from liquid courage or from genuinely wanting to enjoy himself, he relented.

“I don’t like the cold.”

“What? That’s not an answer,” you chided.

“It’s plenty answer,” he said with a grin, knowing it was anything but.

You were a breath away from arguing when you caught the way he was looking at you, just waiting for you to do exactly that. So you clamped your mouth shut and rerouted. “I meant something more along the lines of downright humiliating like my answer was, but…I’ll allow it.”

“You didn’t say humiliating. You said something no one else knows about me. Living with that gang of misfits every second of every day, you learn everything there is to know about each other.”

“That’s…more like it,” you admitted. Then, “Well, why the cold then? I like it.”

“Oh, and I’m not allowed to have an opinion?” he teased.

You glared. He just tilted his head back and laughed, and it was better than any answer he could have given you.

“Fine,” he said on a sigh. “It’s because it’s miserable. Heat can be bearable. It’s never painful, but the cold…”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said, feigning understanding. Then, because he deserved some hassling in return, “It’s hard on the weak-willed.”

He scoffed and bumped his shoulder into yours in retaliation, and all you could do was laugh into your hand, trying to hide the feminine sound from the surrounding crowd.

“My turn,” he said. “And you got two, so I get two, and don’t even try to wiggle out of that.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

“You ever daydream about kissing the postman?”

You could feel your face burn at that one, trying to answer fast enough to cover your embarrassment. “What kind of question is that? Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“I ain’t never brought it up since you did,” he countered.

Maybe not, but he always aimed these questions right where you were most guarded. Or most clueless, more like.

You groaned your frustration and were about to blurt denial before you realized that would be a lie—you’d never kissed anyone before Arthur, and you couldn’t deny that childish curiosity that had you imagining a hundred different scenarios with that stupid postman at the ripe age of fourteen. Maybe even thirteen.

Your hesitation was your biggest mistake. Arthur’s shit-eating grin had already taken hold. “Knew it.”

“There’s nothing to know,” you hissed, trying to keep from a yell. Lucky there was the sound of a piano currently filling the saloon, or this whole conversation would be on display for the patrons.

“Can’t lie,” he teased. “Those are the rules.”

“I haven’t even said-”

“Next question,” he interrupted. “Since you want to play dirty.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“Did you imagine him your age in said daydreams, or were you kissing a forty-year-old man?”

“You’re terrible,” you said. “Absolutely awful.”

“So…that a yes?” he asked over a wicked grin.

“No.” He gave you a knowing look, and you immediately shut it down. “No. He was…like he always looked. Not forty, for Christ’s sake.”

“Thirty-nine?”

You swatted him. He laughed. “What then?”

“I don’t know,” you said, exasperated. “How old are you? He looked about like you do.”

You realized your mistake the moment the words left your mouth. Especially when Arthur’s expression turned from amusement to smugness.

“Like me, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” His grin had turned feral.

“He looked your age.”

“Sure.” He dropped it, but you knew by the look on his face the conversation was far from over. Meanwhile, it was likely your face would soon burn away with how red you knew it to be.

“I’m thirty-three,” he said, interrupting your embarrassment.

“He was around that.”

He nodded. Then, “Well, as fine a question as asking my age is, it’s my turn again.”

“Excuse me?” You said it loud enough for Arthur to shush you.

“Pipe down with all that. Lest you want these fine folks knowing you’re a lady.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What?”

“Lady. That’s the second time.”

“That’s what you are, ain’t it?”

“Woman,” you corrected.

“Woman. Lady. Same thing.”

You leaned over the bar, facing away from him. He was too amused with you to let it lie. “What, you got a problem with it?”

“No. It’s…not terrible. Just don’t expect me to go calling you gentleman.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, nameless.” You whipped around at the nickname, and he winked at you before lifting his glass to his lips. Goddamn him for it. This was the Arthur you couldn’t stand being around since that kiss. The one who had led to that kiss. And all you wanted was for it to happen again.

You tore your eyes away from him and tried to think of a question that would justify why you were suddenly wracked with nerves and dead silent because of it.

“How ‘bout this,” he said, his smile so wide you knew it would be an awful question. “Have you ever…” His voice trailed when his eyes met the door. Yours followed, and you immediately knew why his focus had become so sharp—in walked the man from the night prior, the one who had lost so much money playing poker. Bowler hat, greasy manner, and all.

“And, like his father, he’ll come to regret that,” he was saying to one of the men he was with the night before. Well, slurring would be more accurate. His red-tinged face and bloodshot eyes gave him away for a drunk if his speech didn’t.

“Mr. Lawrence,” the bartender called over to him. “Nice to see you in.”

“Ah, Mr. Begley,” the man—Lawrence—responded. He leaned over to his friend, either not bothering to lower his voice or unaware of its loudness as he said, “Can’t very well say it’s a pleasure in this dump, can I?”

His friend chuckled in response, but all you could do was glare. Your distaste must have been obvious enough for Arthur to lean into you and whisper, “Eyes forward, there.”

You did as he asked, not needing to draw attention to yourself now.

You were grateful when the man and his friend settled on the opposite side of Arthur, though not even a minute passed before he was drawing Arthur’s attention.

“A new face, have we? Haven’t seen you here before.”

Arthur kept his eyes forward as he said, “Never been here before.”

“A newcomer then. Staying or passing through?”

“Just passing through.”

“You and your…ah…”

Lawrence leaned past Arthur to look at you.

“My friend,” Arthur answered, though it only resulted in a raised eyebrow from the man. It was obvious enough to anyone looking closely you were a woman. But if he realized, he didn’t say anything.

“Yes. Well, the name’s George Lawrence. Brother to the notorious James Lawrence.” The description dripped with disdain for the latter, though you had no clue who he was referring to.

“Who?” Arthur asked, and you had to rein in a smile at the way he blatantly snubbed the man, offering up no name of his own.

This really got the man’s attention, and his friend’s too. “You don’t know? Oh dear, what filthy little rock have you been living under?” When Arthur still didn’t take the bait, Lawrence kept on. “The shootist? Recently appointed town marshal?”

“Here?”

The man scoffed a laugh. “Yes, here.”

“Well, if he’s as friendly as you, maybe I’ll go pay him a visit,” Arthur jeered.

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed with disgust, his oily nose crinkling up with it. He looked Arthur up and down. “And you are?”

“Arthur Callahan.” You were surprised Arthur even offered that much, though he still wouldn’t meet the man’s eye, too busy leaning over the bar top and trying to ignore him.

“And you?”

Lawrence’s eyes had fallen on you, and you blurted the first name that came to you to keep Arthur held back as he turned toward the man in offense. “Frances Smith.”

Lawrence’s eyes narrowed as Arthur whipped around, surprise lining his gaze—he didn’t realize the name was fake. You just shook your head at him.

“Well. I hope the two of you enjoy yourselves in our humble town. Though I do suggest sticking to the back streets. That’s where the other…what do you call it? Cowmen tend to reside.”

Never in your life had you heard that word said with such disdain, and it drew Arthur’s attention like a gunshot. “Excuse me?” he grimaced, voice dangerously low.

“I don’t believe I stuttered.”

That did it. Arthur stood to his full height, towering over the smaller man, and swept into his space so quickly that Lawrence stumbled back onto his friend’s foot.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to,” Arthur threatened, “but I ain’t like these other townies, scared of some marshal brother of yours. So I’d suggest you get lost before you find yourself with a few less teeth.”

The whole saloon had stopped to stare—even the piano player. It was dead silent as Lawrence answered with a slight slur in his voice, “I would think twice about the crowd you find yourself in before you threaten a fight.”

Arthur looked around as you did, finding many glaring patrons. But they weren’t glaring at the two of you. Rather, it seemed they had caught just enough of the conversation for Lawrence to offend the whole lot of them too. Arthur must have noticed this, as he looked back to Lawrence and, without hesitation, yanked him forward and head butted him right in the nose. A crack rent the air, Lawrence went crumpling to the floor, and his friend could only shout his shock and try to help him back to his feet, both too drunk to do much of anything else.

A few of the patrons laughed, one exclaiming, “That’ll show him, the sorry bastard.”

Lawrence finally reached his feet with a bloodied nose, straightening his jacket with whatever dignity he had left. And, seeing no one would come to his aid, he just glared at Arthur and cursed under his breath as he stepped past him.

“Come on, Higgins. I think it best my dear brother hears about this.”

With that, he left. You and Arthur watched him until the doors snapped shut behind him and his friend.

“As satisfying as that was,” the bartender said, drawing your attention. “I would be careful with that one.”

Arthur pushed his glass back toward the man for him to refill it, tossing another coin down. “Slimy bastard like that deserves worse.”

“Perhaps.” The bartender waited until the room resumed its careful conversation, most men eyeing Arthur now. The rickety piano started back up when the bartender leaned in close over the bar. “He wasn’t exaggerating about his brother. They say he’s the quickest draw anyone’s laid eyes on in years. And, newly appointed town marshal to boot. You would do well to remain in his good graces.”

“If he’s anything like his sorry excuse for a sibling, I don’t care to be,” Arthur muttered.

“He’s not. He’s likable enough. You get on his bad side, and you’ll find the whole town against you.”

Arthur noted this but didn’t answer, so you did. “How on earth did a man like that wind up with a brother like George?”

The bartender really looked at you then, likely just now realizing your gender. But you appreciated his kindness as he only tipped his hat to you and explained. “They say George has lived in his brother’s shadow too long. Not as talented, not as favorable. And his nasty gambling and drinking habits make for a sour man indeed. Too much money and too little entertainment. I would steer clear of both men.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Arthur said, cutting you off before you could respond. You looked to find him glaring at you, likely because you had drawn so much attention to yourself twice now.

The bartender took the hint and his leave, letting you and Arthur be.

“We need to get going, Frances.”

You couldn’t help your smile. “Is that what you’re upset about? You did just crack a man’s nose with your skull, you know.”

He didn’t acknowledge that. “All this time, you wouldn’t tell me your name, and you dole it out to the first bastard to walk through that door and ask it?”

“Maybe he was nicer about it than you were.”

“He wasn’t.” Arthur’s scowl tickled you—like a pouting child. You pointed to his drink.

“Finish that, and let’s go.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Unless you want the big bad marshal to come knocking.”

He scoffed and threw his drink back, slamming it on the bar top. “Thanks,” he offered the bartender, tossing him another coin for his discretion and his advice before ushering you out. You could only smile at how disgruntled Arthur remained, letting him lead you on.

Frances. Goddamn Frances.

Arthur lead you back to the hotel, too spooked to go anywhere else despite the early afternoon hour. He hadn’t had his head on straight in that saloon—shouldn’t have taken you there in the first place. But he had to admit, you had a way of making him forget his logic. It had even been fun for a while. Until it wasn’t. Now he had the attention of one of the most powerful men in town which never lead to anything good. He was suddenly considering that putting an end to this little stay wasn’t such a bad idea. It had been nice while it lasted, even if it had only lasted two days.

After locking you both inside the hotel room, Arthur dug through his satchel for a cigarette, finding he only had one left. He would need to get to a store soon. Maybe in the next town.

“So,” you said, that playful lilt still in your voice despite what had gone down back in that saloon. “Mr. Callahan, was it?”

He shook his head as he lit a match. “Fake name.” You laughed lowly, and it drew his attention. As did the way you settled on the bed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He let you drop it, still too jittery to pick a fight with you.

“I didn’t know any better, and I’d say you’re jealous.”

He didn’t take the bait. “Am I?”

“You must be if that’s how you react to me giving my name out.”

He eyed you, taking a long drag. “I ain’t jealous.”

“No?”

“No.” Then, because he couldn’t resist, “It just don’t make much sense. You, protecting your precious name from me all this time only to-” He caught your eye and the grin underneath them. And simultaneously realized himself a fool. “That ain’t your name, is it?”

You smiled wide, and he scoffed.

You laughed loudly, the sound so pure it made his chest tighten. “No, Mr. Callahan, it’s not.”

“Well, you don’t get to know my name, then. How’s that?”

You shrugged. “Fine. Arthur’s all I need.”

“You’re something else,” he said, ears burning for the way you kept outsmarting him.

With this, you just smiled and shed your hat, lying back on the bed. He wanted to join you on it. Knew he wasn’t strong enough not to. But if he was going to keep any gentlemanly manner about him, he couldn’t do it now. He couldn’t lay beside you while that alcohol ran through his blood so thick and that laugh of yours made him want to take your mouth to his. If he did, the night would end in a way he was torn between wanting desperately and knowing he would regret the moment it happened. There would be no happy ending for you and him. Just as there hadn’t been with Mary. Just as there hadn’t been with Eliza and the boy…

He couldn’t dwell on that now. Not while he still had you—someone kind enough to brave the world for him, as you had tonight in that shit hole of a saloon. It meant more to him than he could say. You were right that he never took time for himself. Mainly because when he did, it always ended badly, and there wasn’t anyone with him now with enough knowhow to get him out of a tight like that. In fact, the thought of you just trying put a smile on his face. Smart or no, you were no outlaw. He was willing to bet your experience with the law ran nigh on none, good or bad. But his experience wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, so he went back to looking out the window and trying to empty his head with that lone cigarette, passing the time in hopes you would fall asleep and his blood would cool. After a while, both came like a caring respite, and he crawled into that bed a second time with you, repeating to himself that it was only for comfort. And only for a little while longer.

_________

End Notes: My apologies if your name happens to be Frances Smith 😂 just pretend she said some other name that isn’t yours if so!

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing

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bbcphile · 2 days

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WIP Wednesday (MLC longfic again!)

Now that my amnesia fic is posted, it's time for more of my MLC longfic! At long last, LLH is awake again . . . and not doing that well.

(You can find earlier excerpts here.)

CW/TW: Panic attack, bicha flare, suicidal ideation

Something was different. The pain was there as always, waiting to devour him whole once he acknowledged it, but there was something else, something blanketing it, muting it somehow.

Li Lianhua stretched out his senses like a limb and tried to make sense of it.

Ah. Warmth. That was the strange sensation. Warmth–heat, even–all around him–his back, his chest, his legs, even his fingers, which had been more like blocks of ice than flesh and blood these last few months.

He leaned back, pushing into the banked heat behind him. The solid core of warmth tucked against his front from navel to neck twitched, then pressed against him more securely, as though it could make a home for itself inside his sternum, ribs, and spine and heat him from within.

He felt warm everywhere.

Well, almost everywhere.

He rolled forward slightly, wiggled further down on the bed, and tugged the core of warmth up higher. He curled his arms and shoulders around it and nestled the bit in his hand between his face and the pillow until it cradled his cheek.

Much better.

He smiled into his new, warmer pillow and let himself start to relax back into sleep.

“Xiangyi?”

The warmth against his face gradually took shape as his skin and mind began to wake. That was a finger–no, several fingers. A hand. A large hand. And those calluses–how could he not know them when they had clashed steel with him, choked him, clinked brimming cups of wedding wine with him, even been inside him, taking him apart with a gentleness he hadn’t known they could profess.

He let his awareness spread throughout his body, setting aside the pain, and yes, that was a-Fei’s chest he had pressed himself against, like Huli Jing requesting head scritches, and those were a-Fei’s legs, tangled with his, and that was a-Fei’s breath rustling his hair–less now than it had been a moment ago–and that was indeed a-Fei’s arm he was clutching like a child would a favorite toy.

But a-Fei had been holding him first.

Why was a-Fei holding him? It was one thing to wake up in each others’ arms in the newly wed room, after their . . . exertions. Before a-Fei knew that any real dream of a future was doomed to fail.

But to hold him now? After he’d given away the wangchuan flower and left a-Fei behind, left their promise behind? To hold him like he still mattered. Like he wasn’t a curse who killed everyone he’d ever cared about. Like he was some sort of treasure . . .

Treasure . . .

Cabinets stained in blood, Xiaobao’s blood–

“Xiaobao,” he gasped, flinging himself free and to his feet. Where was Xiaobao? He had to find him, had to heal him, before it was too late–

“Xiangyi! Sit down!” A-Fei caught him as his legs buckled and lowered him back onto the bed.

Why wasn’t Xiaobao here? Had he killed him, too, just like he killed everyone he cared about?

“Duobing,” a-Fei roared. “Get in here. Now!” Callused fingers cupped both sides of his face, turning it gently but firmly toward him. “Xiangyi, look at me. He’s alright. He’s on his way.”

“How could he be alright?” Li Lianhua gasped, clutching at his shoulders, the already blurry world turning more hazy. “I saw the blood!”

“I healed him. He’s safe,” a-Fei said, cradling his head as though he could hold the shattering pieces of his mind together. “Now breathe.”

Li Lianhua choked on an inhale, his lungs spasming, only managing to draw in a desperate wheeze.

A-Fei cursed and dropped to his knees by the bed, pressing one hand to Li Lianhua’s back and the other to his chest, filling both with a familiar warmth that began to break apart the iron bands strangling his throat and lungs. “Try again. Feel my hands. Press against them when you inhale.”

The next breath shook and spluttered like a dying candle but some air squeaked through nonetheless.

“Good.” A-Fei gave his back a short supportive pat. “Again.”

Lotus Tower shook as footsteps pounded toward the bed. “What’s wrong?” panted a beautifully familiar, impossible voice. “Xiaohua’er?”

“Bicha,” a-Fei growled, rising from the floor to kneel on the bed at his side, his hands still bracketing him on either side. “He thinks you’re dead. Show him the scab.”

“Shit,” the Xiaobao-shaped hallucination cursed. It seemed especially cruel of hallucinations to now match the blurriness of their surroundings. It made them seem far too real.

The hallucination knelt at his feet and took his hands. “It’s me, Xiaohua’er,” it said, tears in its eyes and voice. “I’m alright. A-Fei healed me. See?” It brought his hand up to a spot on the back of his skull and pressed his fingers to a crusted, raised line on its scalp. “I’m right here and I’m alright. Do you believe me?”

He could feel it. Why could he feel it? His fingers had always passed through hallucinations before. And even when he’d dreamt of Xiaobao, or of a-Fei, of holding them again, it hadn’t felt as real as this. His fingers traced the ridges of the scab–a perfectly neat seam–then the silk curtain of hair that covered it.

This was Xiaobao’s hair. The texture, the thickness, what he could see of the color–no hallucination could do justice to this.

This was his Xiaobao.

He was alive.

“Xiaobao,” he cried, turning his head this way and that to make sure it was the only injury. “You’re alright!”

Xiaobao’s bright smile shone through despite the haze his eyes imposed on everything. “Told you. No harm done. So focus on taking care of yourself, ok, lao huli?”

Li Lianhua huffed out a wet attempt at a scoff and bopped the side of his head. “No harm? What do you call this?”

Xiaobao captured his hands with his and brought them down from his head to rest between them. “Less serious than a Bicha attack. How are you feeling?”

Li Lianhua blinked. A Bicha attack? He turned his attention inward to his qi, and–

Ah. There was a-Fei’s Beifeng Baiyang, somehow wrapped around his Yangzhouman and pushing the last of the poison back into the recesses where it would lie in wait, coiled and ready for the next attack. The black tinge was almost gone from his veins.

He had been so worried about Xiaobao that he hadn’t even realized.

A-Fei had probably saved his life. Again.

He shouldn’t have bothered.

#mysterious lotus casebook #lhl #WIP Wednesday #lianhua lou #my fic #Di Feisheng #Li Lianhua #Fang Duobing #Difanghua #Things will get much better for LLH #starting in the next chapter #If tumblr blocks this excerpt from the MLC tag bc of my tws like it's done on previous weeks I will be so mad #I literally just finished writing this 5 minutes ago #this is the shortest turnaround time ever btwn when I've written something and posted it #cue internal screaming #also I am trying a new narcolepsy med which means thinking feels weird and consequently writing is a massive struggle #so I really hope this lives up to expectation

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tommymilllers · 3 days

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𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 - 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

syn -> “for all have sinned, salvation is neigh” in which you'll do anything to gain salvation.

triggers&kinks -> god complex, religious guilt, manipulation, religious talk, delusional leon, dub-con, religious trauma, corruption kink, power imbalance, indoctrination, sacrilege/sacrilegious themes, noncon to dubcon (coercion), confinement. murder, self-sacrifice, pet-names, religious + cult theme, hallucinations, cult!leader leon

a/n -> i promise this is the last time i'm reposting this,,,,, i'm like officially back w a new account.

chapters -> 1/6

you had always wondered what was in the heavens, from god to angels. this is what led you to be in this very predicament. you were scared and alone, you had nothing and no one. they took everything from you. you had to find the courage to keep trying, to keep searching for a will to live. you wanted to understand why this happened and what was beyond the stars. you had to find the strength to continue, to never give up no matter what happened. you wanted to reach the stars and seek answers to your questions. you had to believe that something better awaited you beyond darkness.

you were sitting on the sidewalk, when you looked up and saw your little brother. you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. you felt guilt, and sadness. if only you had been home the night of the fire, you could have saved them. or you could have died with. you had hoped it would be the latter, because now you have nothing. you felt so much pain and regret. you had been so far away and now you had to live with what had happened. you had failed your family and there was no way to turn back time. you could only hope you could find a way to make up for it.

you wished you had done something differently. but you were a coward.

it had been two weeks since a house fire took everything and everyone you once knew. two weeks since life as you knew it was over. you just needed a sign, something, anything, to show you life was worth living. suddenly, you heard someone talking about salvation while you were walking down the road. you were always curious about religion, but never went to church. you thought there was nothing left to lose, even if this didn't help. at least you could ask someone for a place to stay, “these sort of people are always so generous, even if it's for a day. anything to get out of the cold.”you said to yourself quietly, as you opened the door to the building.

the moment you walked into the building you saw him. he was beautiful, not your usual preacher. his gaze held yours for a few seconds before he turned away and continued his sermon. you couldn't help but feel drawn to him, like he had some kind of power over you. you couldn't explain what it was, but you felt an undeniable connection between the two of you. you knew that if you followed him, your life would never be the same again. so, you decided to take a chance and follow him.

it was almost as if you were in a trance as you sat down.

“for all have sinned, salvation is neigh” leon said, closing his bible.

finally, everything made sense to you. you had been stripped of your family because of your sins.

you needed salvation, rescuing, and he was your only hope. you stayed after worship, hoping to speak to him.

“ hello, little dove. what is it you seek?” he said.

you felt a peace you hadn't before, a sense of hope and purpose you missed.

he was even more beautiful up close, his blonde hair and baby blues. you couldn’t help but stare at him. he smiled and you felt an overwhelming sense of joy and comfort in his presence, and you knew everything would be alright. you knew you had found your true purpose.

“you seek salvation, don't you dove.” he said, grabbing your hand and setting it on top of his bible. you looked down at the book and marveled at the way it seemed to glimmer and glow in the light. you felt an inexplicable connection to it, and you knew that this was the path you were meant to take. You smiled up at him, and he smiled back.

"i'm leon, how about you, dove?" he asked with a soft smile on his face.

you told him everything that had happened to you in the last two weeks, breaking down in his arms. you felt peace for the first time in a long time. leon promised you that salvation is coming and that you’re not alone.

leon offered you a place to stay with his sister preacher. time had passed and you had attended every worship session, soaking in his words. accepting that everything would be different now. that everything will be okay. you felt the warmth of their hospitality, and the safety of their home. you had found your place in the world, and you knew that you would never be alone again.

you’d spend your time helping out around the church, organizing things and helping clean and cook. you spent your nights with leon reading scripture. leon said that you were special and that there was a reason you were not in that fire, that you were chosen by god to be a prophet to speak the truth about the world. leon believed that you were given a mission, a purpose to pursue.

he helped you understand that you had to be brave and strong to fulfill your calling. he encouraged you to never give up and keep faith in the lord. leon said that you should never doubt yourself and always be confident in god's power. he reminded you that you should continuously strive to live a life of righteousness and justice. According to him, you should always be true to yourself and never deviate from your purpose. during midnight sermons and purity rituals. leon was shaping you into the true prophet. everything began slowly.

it had been 3 months since you became a prophet to their god. you felt something deep inside you, this was your calling. you finally found your will to live. your destiny was to bring earth's people salvation. you called upon the gods and asked for their help. a powerful force of energy surrounded you and filled you with a sense of purpose. you knew what you had to do, you had to save the people of earth.

leon showed you a whole new world, he showed you love and support. leon’s faith in you and love for you, was so strong.

you had never felt this before. You began to believe that you were a prophet. from the outside it looked like you were being held captive by some crazy cult, the lack of sleep and the hours spent kneeling and studying the word of your god, but to you this was your everything. you found yourself in a trance, a trance that was only broken by the occasional proclamations of your newfound revelations. you had never been so sure of anything in your life, and you felt a sense of purpose and belonging that you had never felt before. you were determined to spread your newfound knowledge to the world.

you were becoming the perfect prophet. shaped by leon himself. a part of you was happy that he showed so much interest in you. that he shaped you into a perfect person, the vessel of god as he called you. but you could feel a part of you that was scared of him.

the person who became god herself, not just a prophet but a god. his god personified.

after all his years of worship, he had finally seen his dreams come true. you could feel a change in yourself, it felt like you had become another person, someone else, someone better. the unholy shell of your past, slowly becoming just a distant memory.

you noticed that leon started to keep you more to himself, not letting the sisters come and see you more, except for your daily bath. leon said that the vessel for the new god needs to be pure, not tainted by others' thoughts and feelings. you believed everything he said, as he saved you. you trusted him implicitly and distanced yourself from your sisters, not wanting to taint the vessel. leon's words and actions became more and more controlling, but you remained loyal to him, never questioning his decisions.

leon spends his days watching you read and taking notes about his god. and his night welcoming new people to his flock. this was natural to him, he always thought that you were a beautiful vessel. but leon was hiding a dark secret that would soon come true. he had been planning on how to take control of your life, making you his personal puppet. soon, he put his plan into motion and you were unknowingly under his control.

leon knew the day was coming , the day you would save his flock. This was a day that will never be forgotten by the people. this was leon’s true goal. leon had started to prepare you for that fateful day, without you knowing anything.

“ little lamb, what is your dream?” leon asked, taking some notes about the night's sermon.

“why to be the vessel of god. what else would it be?” you said, looking at him confused.

leon smiled, nodding his head. “that's a wonderful dream,” he said. “god will always provide a way for us to achieve what we desire."

after months of training and teaching. you were exactly right. the perfect vessel for god. everything is in order, leon thought.

there were five days left until salvation day. five days till everything you trained for and prayed for finally happened.

your salvation was near.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader

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notmazikeen · 1 day

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SixEyed | Gojo Satoru

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

‧₊˚✧[chapter 5]✧˚₊‧

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Satoru had carried you to your bedroom, pushing your body backwards against the cold wood door. Your hand reached below yourself to lock the door, not wanting another repeat of this morning to happen.

Your legs hugging his waist tightly, his hands gripping tightly into the flesh of your ass. Neither of you wanting to break the close contact with each other.

The whole scene looked sloppy, but in a way romantic.

Like two lovers seeing the other after months of being away. It’s exactly what it felt like too. Satoru had been keeping a close eye on you for months. Not feeling hopeful for an interaction with you, especially after the last time he had seen you and Shoko.

To which you were almost completely ignoring him. He just would not stop staring at you with those damned eyes.

That’s when you had a weird dream about him. The two of you were in a field of flowers, a blanket beneath your two bodies, and a dark sky. It seemed like you were stargazing. But all you could admire was the handsome man beside you.

The way his eyes almost glowed under the moonlight, and the way his chest rose and fell with such calmness.

Honestly the feeling was weird, you had woken up from your sleep with a harsh pant. Have you developed feelings for this so-called womanizer?

The position you were in right now made it seem surreal. Everything felt weird.

Of course you wanted this with him right now, you could not turn down a hookup after going months without a man’s touch. Which, yes sounds desperate but you could feel the pent up stress building. It was almost as tall as a two story building. You need a release. Sadly, Gojo is the man to do it.

Satoru pressed your hips down in a sudden movement, breaking you from the trance of emotions. The friction made you exhale softly, almost a whisper.

He pulled away from your neck, removing his lips with a string of saliva connecting your skin to his. “Do you still want to?” He said breathlessly.

You nodded your head and tilted it softly to the side. Confusion coming across your face.

“I do… Why’d you ask?” You mumble. Feeling just as breathless as him. The foreplay was getting your aching thighs and your clothed sex as needy as ever. Damn you really needed this.

Gojo shifted his weight and spun you around. Taking you to your bed. Then turning around and sitting on the edge of it, now putting you in his lap.

“You spaced out, and I wanted to make sure.” He gave a soft smile. You didn’t think he’d be like this, after what he said earlier, how he promised to make you forget everything but his name. It was odd seeing him so… Sweet?

This was basic human decency. Something your ex was never keen on, Satoru was treating you like you mattered right now. Which made your cunt throb. It really didn’t take much to turn you on anymore. The man underneath you being Satoru, didn’t make it too hard either.

You nodded your head and leaned in to kiss his lips. “I want this.” You mumble against his now open mouth.

His hands shifted across your torso, one staying against the plush of your ass, while the other traveled under your shirt.

A soft grin spread across Satoru’s face, lifting your shirt up to reveal your chest.

Once you realized why he was grinning, embarrassment wept over you. “I didn’t expect-” Gojo cut you off quickly. Putting a tender kiss on the laced hem of your bralette. “It’s hot.” He murmured through kisses.

You truly didn’t expect to have sex with Satoru while he was over, you just hadn’t done any laundry and the only bra and underwear that was clean in your dresser… Was a matching lace set.

It was only clean because one, you didn’t expect any visitors, two, you had only worn it once after your ex demanded you buy a nice set for him, and three, it was uncomfortable.

But the way Gojo was placing passionate, wet kisses along the tops of your breasts made the tight fabric erase from your attention.

It was truly a sight to see. One of his palms softly groped your breast while his lips sucked on the top of your other. You could feel that he was leaving a hickey, and if you were to wear a lowcut shirt everyone would see it. The butterflies in your stomach made their presence known as the goosebumps rose on your skin.

You couldn’t help the furious blush across your features at this moment. Soft whines and huffs would leave your lips when he reached a sweet spot, not even undoing your bralette to reveal your nipples yet.

Then Satoru’s hand crept around your chest and felt for the clasp of the bra. Unhooking the metal clasps with just one hand. Oh… He’s probably done this before. Lots and lots of other desperate women, just like… You?

Satoru moved his head back to take in your body, just staring at you with a hunger for more.

In a shy manner, you slid down your bra, off your shoulders. Unknowingly in a relatively slow way. Making Satoru think you were strip teasing him. There were no complaints from him, he was more than enjoying himself. The pre-cum leaking from his tip and through his sweatpants were proof.

He bit his lip and ran a finger over your nipple, making you shiver. Quickly looking away from him, you tried to conceal the soft moan escaping your lips.

You felt his free hand shift from your ass to your chin. Turning your gaze to meet his. “Fuckin’ beautiful, love.” He purred.

You let out a nervous giggle in response to his compliment before he suddenly flipped your bodies. Now you were laying on your back, while he hovered on top of your body. The plush of your duvet covers surrounding you in warmth.

Satoru slowly brought his lips back to your breasts, this time placing kitten licks across your erect nipples. Making your back arch off the bed ever so slightly. Then he began to suck. “F-Fuck…Please T-Toru…!” A moan escaped your lips as he nibbled on your bud.

One of his hands traveled down your abdomen. Creating a fire in its wake.

His soft hands tugged on your shorts, pulling them down just enough to where you could take them off with your legs.

“A matching set? Sure you didn’t plan this?” He chuckled softly as his fingers grazed across the lace hem of your panties. You grabbed his head and brought him close to your lips. “S-Shut up.” You whined.

His lips roughly pushed into yours. Pushing his fingers down along the soaked fabric of your red underwear, that were now a variation of maroon around your cunt.

Satoru’s hands were precise, he knew exactly where to touch you. His fingers circled your throbbing clit with a soft motion. Earning a loud gasp into his mouth.

He took this as an invitation to stick his tongue into you. You swirled your tongue around his, attempting to get him closer, which is nearly impossible.

In your attempt to gain more friction, your hips rutted against his fingers. The motion causing his fingers to push against your clit perfectly. You whispered his name through a moan as your legs shook softly.

You could feel his lips curve into a smirk as he felt the soft quiver of your thighs. His fingers hooked onto your underwear before pulling them to the side. Letting his fingers brush against the entrance to your cunt.

He was teasing you. His fingers gathered the slick liquid from your folds and dragged them up to your clit. “Please, Toru.” You whimpered against his lips.

His lips broke contact with yours as he gazed down at you. “Please what, sweetheart?”

“Stop teas-, Mmph!” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before his fingers slipped into your dripping entrance. A loud moan came from your throat, a desperate moan.

“So wet f’me.” He purred. Satoru always was extremely cocky, but during sex it was almost embarrassing how dominant he was. You couldn’t help but feel shameful for how submissive you felt. Maybe not having sex for months was a bad idea.

You tried your best to hum a response but you only let out an airy moan. The way his fingers curled up to hit every spot you couldn’t, made you breathless.

“S’toru…Please.” You slurred out. He thrusts his fingers harder into your cunt, and his thumb moved to stroke circles around your clit. You could feel the familiar heat building up in your stomach. The walls of your sex clenched around his fingers, wanting more and more, like a greedy slut.

“So needy, baby.” He mumbled against your ear.

You let out a shameless moan as he curled his fingers up again. “Fu-, Hah, W-Wait!” You whine. The heat becoming a more prominent feeling in your cunt.

Gojo smirked against your neck and pulled his fingers out. Leaving you softly trembling from the lack of fullness. “Already gonna cum?” His lips leaving a faint love bite on the soft flesh of your neck. You felt embarrassed, the heat that built up felt different than usual. You felt like you were going to pee?! Wait! Was he seriously going to make you squirt for the first time ever in your life with just his fingers?!

His body sat up, and moved off the bed. Pulling his sweatpants down along with his boxers. You made an effort to remove your underwear but he stopped you. “Keep ‘em on. You look fuckin’ sexy with ‘em.”

Only a nod was your response. Too mesmerized by his heavenly toned body. You had seen his dick before but that was only on camera. He was so much bigger in person…

Satoru grabbed your thighs and pulled your body to the edge of the bed. His hands then moved to either side of you, leaning down to meet your face.

He used one hand to move your panties to the side before pushing his flushed tip against your clit. Gathering what slick you had, and rubbing it down his dick.

A breathy groan came from him, after he finally touched himself. Relieving the throbbing sensation from his cock. Gojo then slid his dick down to meet your entrance. “Please…” You whined. Your sex drive had never really been this high before. It was honestly odd how much you were begging for anything really today.

Satoru leaned his head down to meet your gaze, his blue eyes gleaming with lust.

“I’ll go slow, it might hurt.” He mumbled before placing a soft kiss upon your plush lips.

His hips bucked forward slowly and the tip of his cock pushed inside your now throbbing cunt. The two of you somewhat moaned in sync as he pushed his dick farther and farther inside.

Honestly it was difficult feeling the slight sting around your cunt, his dick was thick, thicker than anyone you had sex with in the past. The slight curve to the left made his tip kiss your g-spot with ease.

You let out a soft cry when you felt it. This was new to you, and unexplainably pleasing. It was almost like he was made for your cunt.

“Y-You okay?” Gojo’s voice was strained. Everytime he moved an inch, he could feel your walls clamping around his cock tightly. Pulling him in more and more, until he pressed against your cervix.

If he wasn’t controlling himself, he would definitely cum right now. His dick throbbed with a need for release but he couldn’t give in right now.

You nodded softly. Your eyelids barely able to stay open, a cockdrunken look on your face already. “Mhm. F-Faster… Please?” You managed to choke out.

His thrusts were so agonizingly slow. It felt amazing but you needed more of him. You already felt so full with his cock inside of your cunt, but the way his tip would kiss against your cervix every time his hips met yours, drove you mad.

Satoru straightened himself back upwards and held onto your hips tightly. His pace was picking up quickly, almost on the verge of losing control. He was utterly obsessed with you now. Obsessed with everything…

Especially the way your walls kept clenching around him every time his balls would slap against your skin. Every time he thrust his cock back in, it was like you didn’t want him to pull back out.

Shameless groans and grunts escaped his lips. His eyes glued to the scene below him. You sopping wet cunt sucking his cock in. The bed had started to become damp from the sweat he was building up, pre-cum and your pussy.

The way breathless moans and whimpers left your mouth made him weak in the knees. The way you muttered his name, almost made him cum.

“Mmph! ‘To-Toru, Hah- Harder!” You whined desperately. His hand shifted your body with ease, pulling your ass closer to the edge of the bed. He pushed your legs over his shoulders, which to be honest you didn’t know you could do.

Then he began to fuck you with an animalistic pace, and roughness. Every thrust hitting the sensitive spots just right, that feeling from earlier arising again.

“Fuck. Baby I’m tryin’ so hard… N-Not to cum.” Satoru let out a whimper. A hot fucking sound you’d never get over. Truth be told he had never made that sound for anyone ever, but there was something about you…

“Sa-Satoru!” You tried to muffle the pornographic moan leaving your lips. You tried to tell him you felt close but before you could, your high had already approached.

He knew it too. Your cunt clamped down around him tightly and your walls throbbed furiously.

A fucked out smirk across his face. “Cum for me.” He purred through a rough grunt. Using one hand to gently rub your clit, while the other traveled up to roll your nipple with his fingers.

Your entire body felt like it was taking a screenshot over his overstimulating actions. “Y-Yes sir, M-Mmph!”

You swear you heard him growl after those words left your lips. His thrusts became rougher only making you finally reach your high. Your walls clenched hard around his dick. Fluid squelching from your cunt and all over the both of you.

He stopped in his tracks. His eyes were a bit wide now. “Did… Did I just make you squirt?” He mumbled, his eyes focused on the messy scene below him.

Your face became even more red. You didn’t think it was possible to have such a soul shattering orgasm before. “M-Maybe?” You panted.

Satoru picked up his thrusts again, this time slower, because he was about to cum and because he knew you’d be sensitive now.

“That was… My first time…” You groaned as he shifted inside of your cunt, pressing against a now highly sensitive spot.

Gojo let out a loud groan and quickly covered his lips with his hand. Was he embarrassed? “P-Please let me cum i-in you…” He whimpered. His legs were starting to tremble with how hard he was holding back his orgasm.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. “A-Ah-, Toru please cum in me-, mmph! I need you…” You moaned desperately against his lips.

When those words left your mouth, you could feel his cock throbbing and pouring out his orgasm to paint your cunt. “Fuckkkk!” He groaned against your tongue. It felt like he had came so much it filled you to the brim.

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, both breathless and legs feeling weak. Finally with a slow shift, he pulled out of you.

“Holy fuck…” You panted softly. He let out an airy chuckle before reaching for your hand. Satoru helped you sit up carefully, then stand up, so he could aid you in walking to the bathroom.

“That was the best sex I've ever had.” He said shyly while rubbing his neck. Looking at the two of you in the mirror with pride. Both covered in visible hickeys and bite marks. You nodded in agreement. “Honestly… Me too.” You gave him a weak smile before starting the shower.

His cum and your juices spilled down your thighs, and it was a sight to see. Satoru couldn’t help but stare. He felt like he was high. There was really no telling just how obsessed with you he was.

As you stepped into the shower to avoid his gawking, you heard him turning on the sink faucet. “Toru, get in here.” You giggled softly before opening the shower curtain a bit.

He flashed you a wide smile before hurrying to get into the shower with you. It was so intimate in the shower. He helped wash your body, and you did the same. Neither of you able to stop smiling.

Maybe meeting Satoru Gojo was your dream come true. He felt like the perfect man, and maybe he was, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel insecure… Everyone called him a ‘womanizer’, but what if he really was…?

Little did you know Satoru was actually obsessed with you. You were all he thought about. He would make up lies that he was fucking tons of girls, just to try and get over the fact that he couldn’t have you at that moment.

But now that Gojo has you, he never would let you go. You were his perfect missing puzzle piece. He truly was not the man you thought he was. You were his soft spot.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

@drakenswifeyy @sapphireandange @madaqueue @starlightanyaa @agentkeegan @thejujvtsupost

comment to be added to taglist!

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winterflowersftw · 2 days

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Blue Lock characters as Taylor Swift songs + explanation

Notes: Hi guys, so this was another random idea I so...here I am, I guess? But yea do tell me if you guys disagree with any of the song choices here lmao. Would love to hear from you guys

ISAGI YOICHI

"I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?"

And

"If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale"

And

"Of a chain reaction of countermoves

To assess the equation of you

Checkmate, I couldn't lose."

My boy Isagi came into the Blue Lock system as the second last player and crept his way to the top. He's literally the mastermind pulling the pieces together and winning matches. It's really amazing how he had no ability tha made him stand out much except his brain and that was enough for him.

So yea this is HIS song.

BACHIRA MEGURU

"I never miss a beat

I'm lightnin' on my feet"

And

"I'm dancin' on my own (dancin' on my own)

I make the moves up as I go (moves up as I go)

But I keep cruisin'

Can't stop, won't stop groovin'

It's like I got this music in my mind

Sayin' it's gonna be alright"

The song 100% represents Bachira' childish, carefree and happy-to-go personality and some of the lyrics (which I put above) totally show his abilities like cmon. 😭

Okay so the first two lines are like about his dribbling ability, right? And even in the next para the top lines are like how he's not following a rhythm and is doing whatever he wants to and THAT IS SOMETHING HE DOES IN THE NEL. (Sorry got too excited)

And the last two lines are about the "monster" he had, which existed in his mind. It was very relevant in the first selection.

NAGI SEISHIRO

"And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place

For so long, London

Had a good run

A moment of warm sun"

This is VERY specific but I do think this fits really well during the second selection when Nagi chooses to go with Isagi and leaves Reo. Nagi actually stops being the lazy-genius he had been until episode 10 of the anime which has the match between Team V and Team Z where has an awakening (hence the "getting color back into his face" lyric) and he is gaining a passion for football which he never thought someone like him could even have. In Episode Nagi, even Reo acknowledges that the one who made Nagi put in actual efforts in a football match (which he had never done before) was Isagi and not him. Isagi was the reason of Nagi's awakening. And Reo was so sad that he was not the reason.

And right after his awakening, he decides to leave Reo because now he actually wants to improve and has a goal: To beat Isagi. And for that he has to leave Reo. So...yeah.

ITOSHI RIN

"And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest"

And

"Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again

But I'm still trying to find it"

And

"You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath"

Okay again this one is also very specific just like Nagi's but i think this song completely represents Rin's relationship with his brother, Sae. Beating Sae is the only reason we have been given for whatever he does.

When we first see Rin at the start of the second selection, one of the first things he says is how he has to beat his brother and that's basically the bane of his existence.

And in between the confrontation between the brothers when Sae comes home from Spain and thenU20 VS Blue Lock Eleven match; a year has passed and Rin's feeling fir his brother is EXACTLY the same. (Hence the second para)

Also we can notice this during the Itoshi brothers' flashback, Sae had always been the way he is at this point since childhood. But Rin was different, he was a happy and naive kid. But that's gone now. Also how after the U20 VS the Blue Lock Eleven match when Sae comes to Rin, and Rin (and us, the audience) think that Sae is going to praise Rin who had just been in his berserk mode before; the expression change on Rin's face is so evident and heartbreaking. His expression is almost the same one he had when he was a little kid. So yeah, its very heartbreaking when Sae praises Isagi and not him when Rin has been craving for his validation for a longggg time.

Notes part 2: This took me a lot of time to wrote so please don't let this flop 😭🤞

#blue lock #blue lock brain rot #why did i add angst for nagi and rin #blue lock manga #blue lock anime #blue lock headcanons #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #bllk isagi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #blue lock rin #nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #blue lock thoughts #Spotify

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momojedi · 3 days

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FAREWELL PAIRING: none

GENRE: Angst, Hurt/Comfort WARNING: The Bad Batch S3 Finale spoilers A/N: This is very self-indulgent/OC-based but I guess it could be read as an x Reader story. Its a bit of a way to offer my personal goodbye to the Batch if you will.

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Ah, that must be the final one," I remark, brushing another unruly strand of brown curls from my face as Wrecker stretches beside me, the last crate safely stored aboard my shuttle. "Thank you, Wrecker," I say with heartfelt gratitude, though I wince as I notice him grimace slightly, his injuries from Tantiss still lingering. It took some persuading to accept his help with the crates after Omega's rescue, but eventually, I relented.

Wrecker's booming laughter fills the air, eliciting a subtle grin from me. "Don't worry 'bout it!" he exclaims, clapping a heavy hand on my back, nearly throwing me off balance before we're interrupted by approaching footsteps.

"There you two are," Hunter greets us, accompanied closely by Omega and Crosshair, with Batcher following cheerfully. "How's the packing going?" he inquires, to which I hum, glancing over my shoulder at the shuttle's cargo. "Wrecker just stashed the final crate," I reply with a smile, turning back to them. "I'll be departing shortly."

"Do you have to leave?" Omega's plaintive gaze meets mine, tugging at my heartstrings as she takes my hand. She's grown so much since our first meeting on Kamino during the war, barely reaching my chest then and now almost at my chin's height, the pang of guilt is palpable as I squeeze her hand before enveloping her in a warm hug. With a reassuring murmur, I offer her a smile. "I'll stay in touch, I promise."

"Don't forget about me!" A simultaneous squeal escapes us as Wrecker joins in, lifting us into a tight embrace before setting us back down. Then, the two engage in a playful scuffle with Batcher trailing behind. As I observe them goofing around, a lump forms in my throat. Despite the bittersweet feeling of leaving them behind, my decision remains.

"My father is still out there," I sigh, "I have to find him." The warm hand on my shoulder startles me, and I meet Hunter's hazel eyes. "Regardless of your choices, Pabu will always welcome you," he assures, gesturing towards his siblings. "as will we."

I beam at him, embracing him tightly. Hunter visibly tenses in surprise before he finally returns it. "Thank you," I quietly breathe next to his ear, barely loud enough even for him to hear, yet judging by the tight squeeze he offers, he understood. Then I turn to Crosshair. Despite my apprehension towards him, a curiosity and an un-Jedi-like attachment bordering on romance have always lingered when it came to him. "How's the hand?" I ask, nodding towards the stump of his arm. "It's ... it's healing," he responds with a frown, raising it to show me, yet I find myself drawn to his face, empathising with his internal struggle. I'd seen how he'd scanned his rifle after the mission. With his hand now gone, I can barely imagine how badly he must be questioning his significance as a soldier and sniper at the same time.

"I think you'll be fine," I offer gently, meeting his gaze. It's unusually soft as he watches me carefully, almost thoughtfully. Then, to my surprise, he brushes a stray hair from my face with his healthy hand. "I think you will be, too."

As my departure nears, I bid farewell to the island's inhabitants. Echo had departed to join Rex earlier, leaving me his well wishes. Before I board the shuttle, I halt.

"Oh, Omega!" I call, holding her back before retrieving something from my belt. With a sad smile, my eyes scan over it before I hand her the object. "Perhaps you'll find a better place for this." "Your lightsaber?" Her gasp catches my attention as she takes the lightsaber from me. For a moment, it feels as though a piece of me leaves with it and a peaceful rush fills me knowing a part of me will remain here. "Are you sure?" she asks, and I nod, finding solace in knowing it will be safe with her.

"Yes… I won't need it anymore. That chapter has closed," I explain, flashing her a knowing wink. "Can I trust you with it?" Omega grins. "I'll keep it safe. I think, I have just the spot for it."

Hours later, long after the shuttle has departed, the dim light of the sunset bathes Shep's and Lyanna's home, illuminating its treasures of the past. Tech's goggles catch the light beside Lula, with a silver lightsaber hilt resting nearby.

#star wars #the bad batch #clone wars #bad batch #the clone wars #tbb #star wars the clone wars #star wars clone wars #star wars the bad batch #x reader #gender neutral reader #clone wars x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch x reader #Star Wars x reader #my writing

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jeansyvesmoreau · 5 months

Text

TOLERATE IT | Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour Movie (2023)

#taylor swift #eras tour #taylorswiftedit #tswiftedit #candy swift #tsuserjen #tsuservio #tsuserditi #userjake #tsusermeggie #tsuserjime #tsuserlea #THIS IS THE LAST SET FOR NOW I PROMISE. I just had to do something therapeitic with my hands #the eras tour #melone.gif #**

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sttoru · 2 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.

wc. around 870

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.

“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.

“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.

it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.

the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .

but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.

though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.

you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.

his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”

nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.

you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.

satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.

satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.

he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.

it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.

“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.

you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”

you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.

those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.

“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.

you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”

your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.

he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.

he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #divider by @/cafekitsune

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postmortemnivis · 2 months

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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ozzgin · 3 months

Note

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #horror #monster x reader #monster romance #yandere oc #monster smut #monster boyfriend #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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jyoongim · 1 month

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Alastor who’s pretty little wife no one knows about shows up to the hotel with his lunch for something that her and Rosie took so long to prepare. She’s a bit taller than Alastor and completely mothers him it seems- idk just thought it was cute

Charlie beamed as she opened the door, but her eyes widened “ Woah! O-Oh hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you looking to be redeemed from your sins?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

”No. I’m here to drop off Alastor’s lunch”

Now the Princess gave you a confused look.

You were here for Alastor?

”May I come in dear?” She widened the door to let you in and ushered you into the hotel lobby.

Your husband had said he had a new venture he was invested in. What a lovely hotel.

The Princess showed you around a bit and talked about the purpose of the hotel.

”And this is our enthusiastic bartender” she gestured to the bar

Husker’s eyes widened when he saw you before he tilted his hat at you “Madam”

You smiled “Husker! I didn’t know you were here. Alastor ain’t workin you to the bone is he?”

Charlie looked between you “you two know each other?”

You let out laugh, waving your hand dismissively “oooh we go way back” you took a seat on a sofa.

You chatted with Husker and waved as Niffty greeted you before she ran after a bug.

”Woah who’s the glass of water?” A flirty voice said,making you turn and see a tall spider stroll into the room.

Everyone was curious about the tall demoness.

You checked the clock “Not to be rude but is Alastor here?”

That made several faces gawk.

Why were you looking for the Overlord?

”I heard senseless chatter do we have a guest?” A radio-filtered voice floated into the room.

Alastor eyes flitted over the room and they landed on you, his usual smile stretched wide across his face

”Dearest! What do I owe the pleasure? You should have gave me a rang” You grinned as you stood and approached the demon.

Everyone watched in disbelief as the tall woman towered over the Overlord and snatched him in a hug, squeezing him in her arms.

”Alastor!” You squealed, nuzzling the demon who just had a loving look on his face.

You set him down and finally a scowl graced your face, you pointed your finger at your husband, disapprovingly.

”You left so fast I didn’t get a chance you give you these”

You pulled a container from your bag.

Alastor hummed as he opened it, ears flicking happily at the meat sandwiches. You beamed proudly “Me and Rosie spent all day on those and you didn’t even get a chance to taste them. I made sure to drizzle extra blood on yours dear”

”I will never understand how I was lucky to have you dear” he said, dipping his finger in the sauce and tasting it.

”A token of appreciation would be nice” you chirped, leaning down towards the demon, turning your cheek.

Alastor pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Yeah everyone was flabbergasted.

Charlie cleared her throat, looking between the two of you “h-how do you two know each other?” She asked nervously.

You blinked in confusion, before you smiled “I’m his wife of course”

WHAT??!!!

You ignored their stares and turned back to your husband, looking him over.

Your clawed hands grasped his face, turning it, examining him. Your brows frowned “You’re looking thin baby. And pale. Dont overwork yourself and for the love of the all that’s damned please take a rest when you need it. No broadcasting all night. I know you, you’ll be cranky and tormenting souls because you’re tired. Oh! I have tea for your throat too” you happily pulled out tea packs and tucking them in his pockets.

Alastor just let you fret, loving the attention.

Once you finished being a worrywart, you gave him one last hug.

”well i ought to get going. I promised Rosie I wouldnt be long. I just wanted to drop your lunch off.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, waved to everyone, and let Alastor walk you out.

Alastor sighed lovingly as you disappeared in a mist of shadow, once you were gone he went back inside the hotel, where everyone was still gawking

His eyes narrowed “what is it?”

Angel was the first, along with Charlie to literally combust with questions

”You have a wife!?”

”Why don’t you every bring her here?”

”Can’t believe you actually fuck”

”she seems so lovely”

”how the hell or really why the hell she marry you?”

”You should invite her over more!”

”How do you two fuck?”

Alastor’s eye twitch and he turned around to walk out as he carried the lunch you brought with him, ignoring the two.

Angel turned to Husker and smirked “They have kinky sex don’t they?”

Husk flicked him off with a eye roll

”Ill take that as a yes”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #alastor x wife reader

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

always yours- a joel miller x reader

summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.

warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni

The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.

Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.

“What’re you up to back there?”

“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”

A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.

“Want to hear some more?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”

“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”

Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.

“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”

“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”

Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.

Joel sucked in a thick breath.

You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.

He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?

“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”

“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”

It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.

“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Heyyyy!”

Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”

“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”

Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.

In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.

He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.

Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”

“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”

“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”

Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:

“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”

“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”

“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”

Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”

Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”

“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”

“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”

“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”

Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”

Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?

How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?

“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.

“Um…” He scratched at his chin.

“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”

Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.

He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.

“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”

“Animal Planet?”

And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”

“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”

“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.

A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.

Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.

“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”

“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”

“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”

“I said one question a day.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”

“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”

Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.

Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.

Angry, regretful, bitter tears.

“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”

“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”

“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”

“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.

“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”

Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”

That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.

Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.

“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.

“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”

“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”

“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.

“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Go to sleep, Ellie.”

Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.

In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?

But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.

Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.

Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.

“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”

Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,

Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,

And I am once again with you, when our love was new.

“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”

“Dance with me.”

“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”

Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.

“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”

He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,

Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,

You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain…

“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.

His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”

“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.

Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.

Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.

He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.

“Joel…” You whispered softly.

He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do you not like me?”

“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.

“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.

In my heart, it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love’s refrain.

Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.

“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.

“How long was I out for?”

Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”

“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”

Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.

“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”

An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.

“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”

“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”

“Who’s it by?”

“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.

“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”

“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.

“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.

But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.

“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”

Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.

“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.

“‘Bout three years before I met you.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.

“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.

Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.

Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.

“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.

“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.

You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.

Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”

When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.

When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.

As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.

It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.

The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.

Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.

• • •

It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.

Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.

Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.

Your thoughts were full of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.

Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.

After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.

By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.

“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.

The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.

The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.

“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.

Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.

You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.

You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.

No, by someone.

Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.

A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.

Joel.

Joel. Joel.

The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.

Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.

You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.

Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.

Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.

“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.

“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”

“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.

His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.

He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.

You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”

And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.

You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.

You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.

That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?

But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.

“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”

Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.

The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.

He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.

He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.

You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.

“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.

When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.

You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.

He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.

You had always liked your men older, anyways.

Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.

“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.

“For you.” You whispered with finality.

He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.

“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.

And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.

You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.

“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.

“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”

Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.

Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”

“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.

Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.

“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.

“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.

“We’ll see about that.”

Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.

“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.

You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.

You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.

“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”

Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.

“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.

“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.

“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.

“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.

You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”

Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.

You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.

“Christ, Joel.”

He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.

“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:

With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.

You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.

“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”

You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.

He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.

You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.

“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.

“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”

That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.

You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.

“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.

Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.

When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.

You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.

His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.

“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”

“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.

“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.

“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.

You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”

Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”

A moment of silence fell over your bodies.

“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”

“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”

“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”

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