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enbesbians · 22 days

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‘STRAWBERRY KISSES’

sub/top!a. anderson x dom/bottom!reader

cw: tribbing, ejaculating strapon (r. receiving), breeding kink, squirting, dove fucking, scent kink, r. is a parent, standing oral, slight impact play/face slapping (a. receiving), asphyxiation, lactation

MINORS DNI

summary: “real cowgirls ride pussy” and that’s exactly what abby did. who would’ve thought a respected farmer could be a pathetic slut? muscly, big and strong, all to be treated like a fucktoy under your hands.

a/n: this fic is by far one of the most lackluster fics ive probably written. it’s not that great in my opinion and i feel as though it ran in circles… i had been hesitant to post this for some time and had no clue how to end it so it’s a bit abrupt. this fic is almost just pure smut… really long and i over did it just a tad… id also like to apologize… it’s probably so all over the place… it’s been a long while since ive written anything and i don’t think this fic is as great as i tried to make it. nonetheless, i hope you end up enjoying.

that pretty girl abby in her cowboy hat, in those tight blue jeans that hugged her thighs just right, muscles bulging from its fabric and a rusted silver big buckled belt with roses carved into its metal, stood in front of your doorstep. the tap of her heel at your wooden porch with a smile that wore prettily across her lips, crate in hand full of fresh produce hand grown by her. corn, strawberries, apricots and tomatoes, all plump and in season. it was a surprise being greeted by her on your second day moving in. yeah there were others from the town who said their hi’s and goodbyes, some with buttered biscuits or a fresh lemon meringue pie that hadn’t been that well made came to welcome you too, but with her, it was different.

it wasn’t often to see a woman of her stature walking around the city you used to live in— she was built, big and broad, back confidently raised tall in a shirt that ripped at its sleeves showing every vein that ran up her toned freckled, sun kissed arms. on days you’d see her riding horses, galloping as her golden braid fluttered in the thick summer air or even a lasso in hand, things that you saw in movies that you hadn’t even thought twice about. she looked strong and able, independent, attractive, and alluring— even by the sound of her voice contrasting from her strong appearance with a gentle twang in every syllable she spoke.

you were used to the bright neon lights in the night’s city, honking horns and prolonged profanity being thrown back and forth outside of your window to now be surrounded by haybells, horses, clucking chickens and a sun that only ever burned down as if it had been summer year round. the switch was a culture shock and all the country side folk made you feel like you had been living here for years— smiling faces, waves as you rode up into your dirt driveway, seeing all the cows in the distance chewing on the brightest grass you possibly ever saw.

it was nice. through the few months you’ve lived here and growing more accustomed, you made a couple friends along the way. with their boasting charm and positive attitude, you were almost always involved in anything the town had gathered, like being invited to little events in the town— learning the ways of how the people tended their fun; good tasting beer, games and activities you never thought existed or took the time to take part in, like corn bathing or horse shoe throwing. socializing with other mother’s, talking about the shared stress you all experienced or new recipes that you ended up trying to make. even still, you felt a bit out of place at times. your clothes never matching with the attire the others had or their lingo being hard to comprehend, yet the cute accents they spewed whenever they spoke made you giggle warmly. they didn’t seem to mind when you’d ask what they meant when it came to the slang, catching on and using ‘y’all’ as a part of your daily speech. you’d let your kid play amongst other’s their age, finding solace in the open spaces they were able to roam and waddle through— seeing them come home with grass scuffs at the knees of their pants and dirtied palms.

not being too far from abby’s domain, she was well known in the town— inheriting her family’s farm and business as a full time farm worker, handing in fresh fruits, vegetables and cows milk to the monthly market. the anderson’s— you saw it etched in a wooden sign not too far from where you stayed, seeing a red wooden barn out in the distance beside a big pretty white house. she was a woman of business, hands gripping any tool with a grunt that echoed in the air as she puts herself to work.

the day before your initial move in, she saw you and the group of movers helping you gather all the furniture inside with your white summer dress that held against your womanly rounded frame, all frustrated in the face for how hot it had been. she smiled to herself, not seeing many people like you around here. city living people that is. it was adorable. a pretty thing like you didn’t belong in a place like this. filled with dirt and cattle and a body language that didn’t match up to the people that made up of this town— them wearing nothing but flannels and dirtied jeans. the women reeking of cigarettes as the men smelt like cigars all while spitting out peach pits and sunflower seeds.

it was already tradition to grant a new neighbor a gift when they first arrived— nicknacks and baked goods, books, canned food or peanuts. since abby was already getting produce to give to the market in the morning, it was best to give you a taste of what she was good at, wanting to get a real good look at you up close— hear how you talk, admire your body as you moved and see how you’d react to a gesture as big as a big crate of fresh home grown goods. it met all her expectations, seeing the beauty you held within your stare and the exotic nature of your frame, watching your eyes grow wide, replacing that tired and worn expression with a heartfelt one.

thick, sweet and velvety— she told you her name with a curl at the corner of her rose colored lips, tilting the tip of her cowboy hat. her golden hair tied into a tight braid that laid against her freckled shoulder and a hand clasping at her buckle. “it’s nice’ta see a new face round here.” she smiled triumphantly with her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, glazing over you as you held the crate that was once in her hands.

“i couldn’t take all of this.” you scoffed in amazement, noticing how there was not a dimple or bruise in sight on any of the produce.

“there’s not a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit, hon.” she laughed, “it’s a welcomin’ gift. it’s my job to grow all this, don’t want it’ta go all to waste.” noticing how her accent slipped so elegantly as she spoke.

the image of her rested in your mind the entire day, placing all what she gave you in its respectable place, using some for the night’s dinner. it came out rich, juicy and complimented the meat you had made to go alongside it— feeling yourself moan with each bite as your lips drag over the silver of your fork. never have you have something that tasted so good. back home in grocery stores, you were so used to the over produced fruits and vegetables that you never got to taste what produce was really supposed to taste like.

as the days continue and you gave her your millionth thanks for her gift. she replaced her ‘you’re welcome’ with her presence— always being near when she wasn’t busy, coming whenever you needed help. if you needed someone to lift something heavy, there she was, if you needed something from the market, she’d tell you she was already on her way, if you needed help watching your kid, she was right there. no matter if she had been working all day in the sun— wearing sweat like a compressed shirt, coating her arms and face until it dripped from the underside of her chin, and dirt that seeped itself in the thick of her pants as if it had been bought that way— she was right there and that alone attracted you. she had an alluring personality with an even more charming presence that couldn’t go unnoticed, showing you around the town, or showing your kid to her barn, letting them see all the farm animals— petting the cows and horses, feeding the chickens, watching the pigs as they roll around in the mud— or even let them run down in her field. you presented them with freshly squeezed lemon juice and sandwiches as you watched from afar, staring in awe, not understanding how someone can be so genuine with their kindness.

you couldn’t lie, the view of her working was nice. your excuse to be near her was just as good as hers, making it a ritual to pass by when going to the market right around the time you knew she’d be out in the field. you’d catch her in her sports bar, getting a hold of the way her arms and back muscles flexed with the elastic of her boxer briefs peaking out from her pants— a thin line of hair following up to her belly button and freckles that scattered all over her arms and chest.

being the socialite she was, beer in hand with women flocking to her like fruit on flies, she’d laugh having them hang off her arms, fleeting eyes, talking about how impressed they were during the horse race that you unfortunately hadn’t been able to see. there was a slight film of jealousy that ran through your body, understanding why those women gave her attention but after all the days you’ve gotten to know her and the way she’d help you or even talk to you, you’ve grown a liking towards her.

abby could say the same. you hadn’t noticed when other farm workers placed their interests, seeing you as a fine piece of butchered meat, pristine and cut and hung in the most favorable way.

she didn’t want that. she wanted you all to yourself, adoring the relief on your face whenever she had a task done or the way you’d laugh after saying a joke or two, doing the usual head tilt when she left, eyes bouncing from your face until it lined all the way down your body. sneaking a hand at the side of your waist while passing by, inhaling the sweet spritz of your perfume that you wore or the sight of your ass in your jeans, finger in its pants loop, slighting jumping as you fixed them. nothing could top getting a tease of your panties whenever you bent down— that you may or may not’ve done on purpose— while wearing a dress. riling her up seeing the numerous pairs you wore, making the innards of her legs moisten and her heart race, keeping a visual memory of the blue lace you once wore or the lilac pair she last seen in the hamper in your downstairs bathroom that she shamelessly took.

it was memento. an unspoken thank you given by you, taken into her care. laid in her bed, she sprawled herself against her mattress, seeing the embroidered shapes in its cloth, remembering how it’d spread and cupped your ass. keeping in memory how you sheepishly pulled down at the dress’s fabric like you hadn’t known that you teased her with a beautiful, lustrous sight. she couldn’t help herself— you invited her in— trying to keep her indulgences tame each time she got a glimpse of your panties or the way your breasts sat in any shirt that you wore. she thought about your thighs and how they pressed together as you stood or whenever you sat down and how they expanded, thinking of whenever you were aroused and the mess you’d make in your panties and if they’d bunch at your folds or maybe even at your ass.

she’d take the panties to her nose, taking in your scent while rolling her fingers at her clit— pressing it against her lips and soaking them with her spit as she tried so desperately to let your taste linger. sopping wet, she’d let it bunch as she rubbed herself with it on her clit, grunting moans filtering her bedroom while her eyes closed themselves to remember the image of you— the simplicity in the way your tight shirt lifted and the skin that peaked just above your jeans, or even the way your jeans rolled at the folds of your hips. she’d hump the air, feet planted on her mattress as she pressed your panties roughly at her pussy.

and to think it all started off with a small hi and crate, inviting her to taste your sandwiches and apple pies, coming every few weeks or so, to her coming every week then almost every day— making it harder and harder to resist you and the need to be beneath your skin. to touch you, knead you, hear how you’d sound. now all that crowded her vision was her fucking you— digging her fingers into one of your dresses and tearing it off your body just to see how your panties really looked on you and how’d they’d look off. each breath painted the picture with the help of her entering your bedroom, keeping that in thought after you had asked for help to move your dresser. she thought about your body against hers, hand pressed down in the center of your shoulder blades, hips rolling deeply into you that had been hugged by her harness.

“you’re so nice.” you’d always tell her, sighing out a pleasant sigh whenever you got the chance.

“of course sugar.” she sang, her voice lustful and bright, “always nice to give a little, specially when a pretty woman is in need.”

“oh hush.” you laughed playfully while she leaned up against your doorframe— suspenders at the sides of her hips, hair undone from its braid and a hand tucked in the back of her pocket.

“it’s true. i don’t mind when’ya ask me of things, miss. i like helpin’ out. you’re so hardworkin’ and such’a good mama… the way you cook too? my god, it’s delicious.”

the sun rested against her frame like a glowing halo, taking the time to notice all the good deeds this woman has given you. no other has been this kind or dependable, being active in your child’s life as well as still have time to do all that needed to be done to maintain their business. it amazed you as well as excite you, coming to realization that abby’s eyes weren’t just kind but perverted. you had met your match.

every glance felt like she was studying you— the dark pools in her eyes expanded as the blue ring that surrounded, disappeared. they penetrated deep within your body, coddling your flesh like her plaything. feeling like a bee sting as her pupils prickled down your body. each time her tongue ran against the many cracks of her bottom lip, it was as if you could feel its flat bed roughly roll against your breasts, teeth grazing against your perked nipples with the subtle touches of her calloused hands sending shivers down your spine and towards your clit.

“i like to give back to deserving people.” you reply, your voice switching to an evident teasing tone that struck at her confidence, making her gather herself as she cleared her throat.

“there’s no need for that.” she smiled, her head lowering as the heel of her boot turned at your welcoming mat, “just cause i help ya out, don’t mean you have’ta physically give me anythin’ back. quality time is good’a nough for me.”

“is that so?” you chirped, hand now at your hip, letting the quiet ambiance of the distant bird chirp fill the comforting silence, “if that’s case, come back tomorrow, im going to make more strawberry tarts, you seemed to like those last time i made them. they’ll be in school tomorrow, so itll just be us if you don’t mind. we can have more ‘quality time’.”

“oh?” she smiled, biting down at her bottom lip, trying to hide the excitement that rose in the center of her chest, “yes… yes ma’am, i mean, i dont mind at all…us. i mean, it just being us… tomorrow. yeah… tomorrow then.” her well known confident demeanor demolished with you noticing her struggle to let out her words.

cute.

•••

morning approached, the blue sky and yellow sun swelling through the windowpanes as the sweet smell of strawberries filled the aroma. twenty minutes to nine, abby’s knuckle was in meet with the front of your door. there was nothing wrong with being a little early, she thought— unless there was a chance she could’ve been too early or maybe seen as too desperate?

she laid restless in her bed the night before trying to think of the many reasons as to why you had asked her to come over. yeah, you did say you were baking tarts and you wanted quality time but what did that entail? it wasn’t as if you and her had much alone time since your kid was either present or in the house alongside you both. it seemed odd, taste testing tarts without her doing the usual tasks you’d ask her to do. seemed too good to be true.

yet she was excited nonetheless, expecting nothing but positive due to how cheerful you always seemed around her. bashful stares and a warm conversation, it flowed nicely. just as nice as the pasta you made that last tuesday, the sauce being thick and not too runny and aged grated cheese to go on top of well boiled penne pasta.

smelling of cologne, she dressed all nice in her thick blue jean jacket— a yellow patch woven into the shoulder— and another one of her hats that was a warm tan that looked soft to the touch. her hair in its usual braid seeing how every strand had its own shade of blonde with two stands that flowed softly against her freckled face. “wow.” she sighed, eyeing the black dress you ended up wearing that she hadn’t seen before. it clasped at your hip dips, with the imprint of your stomach showing so cutely at its fabric— she wished she could touch. it was short, stopping mid-thigh and with each time you walked, you’d have to tug at its bottom as it rose and rippled at your waist. cut at its collar so your cleavage was on full display, wearing one of your bras that gave them more of a push. “hi…there.” she smiled, tipping the side of her hat like she had always done before. “you sure clean up real nice… shit.”

“why thank you, so do you.” you replied, making it evident that you adored her attire with the way your eyes glazed against her boxy frame. “you’re early.” your hand holding the side of the door, noticing the nervousness abby wore in the tone of her voice. it was cute, even cuter with how she looked like she tried so hard to look good for you— the scent of her so welcoming and her so neatly dressed.

“oh! m’ sorry, if’ya need me to come back later, i definitely would. just thought that… ya’ know… i didn’t think it would be much of a-“

“no… no.” you interrupted with a laugh, “you’re so cute. it’s alright. come inside, the tarts are almost done anyways.”

your house was warm and quiet, free of the nursery rhymes that usually played on the living room tv. there were no toys scattered about and alongside the sweet smell of the baking tarts was a slight film of cleaning products. it was gentle, the ambience of the morning’s music filling your ears as you hum a lulling tune. strawberries and sugar entering the airwaves with nice conversations being made, clock ticking moving closer to the tarts being done and ready to be tasted.

she sat down on the stool of your kitchen’s island, mouth watering at the sight of the tarts as they had been placed on a plate and set on the countertop. “now… tell me if these are good. i tried doing them a little different. the neighbor down the way said it’s best if i don’t use to much sugar so you’d able to taste more of the strawberries. unless you have a sweet tooth, i can make more with more sugar.” you chirped, wiping your hands at the apron that had been tied at your waist you ended taking off and placing it on a hook in your kitchen.

taking one, abby didn’t hesitate to eat, humming a pleased hum as she nodded her head, eyebrows furrowing. “this is real good.” she said, mouth full of the tart, licking the tips of her fingers, “i don’t usually eat tarts, but if i were’a professional, id give it’a A+.”

“aren’t you just a charmer, abby.”

she smiled at the compliment. abby was a natural flirt, everyone knew this. she talked to women like it was a sport without even realizing her intentions. it didn’t help that her voice alone was seductive, supple and flowy by default. it didn’t take long for you to take interest in it after the first few moments of speaking to her— not caring about accents until you heard hers. each word was like a melody, needing to have it played beside your nightstand on your bed.

“well…” she hummed taking another bite, wiping the side of her mouth with her thumb, “a woman who knows how’ta bake is a dangerous lil thing.”

you laughed, “a dangerous ‘little thing’.” you repeated lowly, admiring the way she indulged your food, hearing her muffled chatter. “and why is that?”

“you never heard the sayin’?” grabbing another tart, “the one bout’a happy belly?”

rolling your eyes, you start to put all the leftover ingredients back where they belonged, rag in hand and wiping the left over sugar and flour that sprinkled on top of the counters, “so you’re saying i make good food?”

“don’t be silly. of course, miss. im sayin’ more than that. fuck, if id’a known you were this talented, i would’a invited myself for dinner every night if you’d let me.” she replied honestly, her voice coming out softer before drinking the glass of water you left beside the tart’s plate. “a nice dinner… and dessert.”

“in that case, the offer is on the table.” turning to face her seeing her politely wipe her mouth. “you’re usually present during the lunch i make.”

“how could i not? you make’a mean sandwich and dont get me started on that one time you made— oh uhm miss…you got’a little…” pointing at your breast, a small wet patch being shown. you had leaked. it happened pretty often and youd always get so embarrassed every single time. it’d happen in the most random moments and especially in public. there was nothing satisfying about having a wet shirt as you roamed through the grocery store or even in the past when having dinner dates with online meetups your friends swore worked— everyone would make notice with them seeming just as embarrassed as you were, but you just groaned. shamelessly trying to look sexy for abby all to be leaking through right as she arrived.

“fuck, why now?” your fingers running along the wet patch as if magically it would disappear. “im sorry… this always happens when i don’t want it to.”

“oh!” abby swallowed, her eyes widening as she shook her hands, “no, no! it’s nothin’ you got’a be embarrassed about… it happens, sweetheart.” she spoke with her voice trembling like in any way she made the situation worse yet she hadn’t. looking at her, you noticed how frequently she blushed and how easy it was for her to get flustered. your mind spoke loudly to you as you thought of the many ways to make her puddle at your feet— it was what you deserved anyway. a single mother that hadn’t been given this type of attention since before you knew you were pregnant, having nothing but lack luster sexual encounters that didn’t even grant you a good enough orgasm. just from her reactions alone made your body tingle— this big, buff woman acting all shy in front of you. trying to be so kind and respectful with her use of ‘miss’ and ‘ma’am’.

“you see stuff like this a lot?” you tease, taking a towel to continuously wipe at the fabric you knew wouldn’t dry but you tried nonetheless.

abby chuckled, her warm tongue rolling at the bottom of her pouted lip. there shouldn’t be anything alluring about seeing you leak through your dress, but to her, her perverted mind thought quicker and her body felt itself wash with a film of arousal. “no… its my first time actually. but i dont see why it’d be much of an issue.”

looking up, you notice her eyes and how she obliviously stared at the stain on your breasts. “you think so?” rolling your tongue in the inner of your cheek, you chuckle quietly as you hummed. “in that case…would you like a taste?”

abby choked on her spit, her eyes widening, getting a better sight of the blue and her growing pupils. the question was abrupt and she had no way to prepare how she could react. “taste…? im… m’ sorry miss… i dont think’a understand.”

“yeah, taste. haven’t you ever wondered what it tasted like? ive tried it. it’s a bit sweet, maybe even sweeter than those tarts.” your hands cupping at your full breasts, squeezing lightly as you felt yourself continue to leak from your nipples— the wet patch expanding. abby couldn’t do anything but sit there, hypnotized with how they oozed from it’s collar and the way you let yourself mess up more of your dress. “seems like you like it. does the sight of leaking and the thought of tasting me get you all hot and bothered?”

“you fuck’n tease…” she chuckled, enjoying the way you spoke to her. every woman she encountered had never dared to speak to her that way. seeing her as nothing but a woman of control rather than someone who could be controlled— take her as she is and put her in her place, knowing all what to say, what do do and how it should be done. abby hadn’t thought about it to know if that’s something she’d enjoy. but now, with the view of your hands fondling your breasts and the slow whispers that hummed in the air, asking her questions that you both knew what the answer would be made her more wet than she thought she could get, “you ain’t gotta ask… you’re a fine woman… how can i not?”

“oh am i?” you hummed, “i just like the way you react to me.”

“and, how do i react to you?” abby’s voice entranced by you and whatever move you made.

“well… when i compliment your work ethic… telling you how hard it must be, how draining… yet a strong woman like you? it must be easy for you, yeah? all the poor weak men who try to do what you do look like amateurs. but you, miss abigail anderson, you look so determined and sexy… fuck, how sweaty you get and how… your body… flexes… makes me want to let you take me right there on that dirty field and fuck me.” never leaving her eyes, your finger drags along the countertop of the island that separated you both, one foot in front of the other, making your way towards her slowly. she felt herself burn with anticipation, her golden glow washing a faint red at her nose, cheeks and the tips of her ears. frantic, her hands clutching at her buckle, then fixing her hat to pressing it’s palms down at her jeans to clean its sweat. “it’s odd.. ive been missing a few pairs of my underwear… do you think you know who’d take them? i mean… who would…?” you laughed sweetly, as you let your face lean closer towards abby who couldn’t even sit still in her chair— chest heaving, lips wet from the constant licking. “buuut, i think i have a pretty clear idea who could’ve took them. you thought you were so slick, but how could i not see a pair of purple panties poking through your pocket. tell me abby, what did you use it for?”

“m’sorry… i wasn’t thinkin’ they were just right there and i…”

“shhh no need for all that pretty girl.” you stood in front of her— seeing how her muscles craved through her jean jacket, and her hat slightly tilted down, unable to look at you, looking every which way as she felt her heart jolt with excitement. it wasn’t usual for her to act this way— get all nervous and tongue tied. your shamelessness got the best of her. it was abrupt, teasing and erotic, feeling her body burn with an intense desire to finally place those imaginations to reality.

you slid your finger at the underside of her chin, pressing your thumb just below her bottom lip. “look at me.” your voice in a hushed tone, lifting her face towards yours. she exhaled deeply, lips parting as if she was going to speak, but nothing followed.

“that’s it pretty girl… look at mommy… need to be able to see those pretty blue eyes.”

“shut your fuck’n mouth…” abby breathed with a smile forming on her lips, letting the word mommy wrap itself around her throbbing clit, rolling her hips down in the stool where she sat.

“why so snappy?” you coo teasingly, removing your hand from her face, placing both on top of hers that had been clasped against her jeans, slowly raising them until they were pressed at your breasts. “you’re the one stealing my panties… and your hips, they’re moving. my words are getting to you, aren’t they? i don’t think you really want me to.” you continued, abby’s eyes obedient as she watched the way yours study her body. her fingers mindlessly curling as she felt the softness of your breasts push in between every spaced out finger while feeling the roughness of her calloused palm. letting out a pleasured sigh, you ran your hands down the backs of her knuckles, then her wrists and her muscled forearms.

“miss…” she breathed, her clit vigorously thumping against the fabric of her briefs. the gentleness of your voice and breasts made her sink deeper into the stool, hands groping them tighter and harder, “you’re so fuckin’ sexy… keep talkin’ to me like that…”

“yeah, you like that? that’s it… you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” you tease, breaking the swelling silence that filled in between your shared gasps. “i see the way you’ve been looking at me… the way you talk to me. where’s all that confidence now, hm?”no response was given. it was as if this was the very first time abby had been left speechless.

“speak.” you demanded, quickly letting go of one arm to grip her jaw roughly, yanking her slightly closer as you bent down towards her face, “…speak.” you repeated, this time softly, lips just inches away from hers— letting yourself hover with gasps ghosting her lips, hearing a whimper fall from her own.

“shit.. you just make me nervous, miss… i can’t help ma’self… you’re just pretty as a picture.” she admitted, letting out a breath of shaky laughter. you stood up again, her blinking frantically thinking that you were going to kiss her, but you didn’t. not now at least. she let herself look down at your breasts to see them spilling from your black dress— your areolas peaking from the lace bra. “lord have mercy on me…” her eyebrows furrowed, gulping down harshly as she bit the bottom of her lip.

she was in trance with you, the way your body moved and molded even when she fondled with your breasts. her grip grew stronger, feeling the roughness in the prod of her fingers and feeling the wetness of your dress stick against her hands. “you want it, don’t you big girl?” you teased, “i know you’d know how to handle me… how to fuck me. show me abigail. let me see how a pretty woman like you can ruin me.”

a hand quickly pressed at the small of your back, pulling your body in between her legs as her lips latched onto your neck, her hat falling down onto the floor at the push of her forehead that tattooed the side of your jaw. open mouthed kisses running along its side and down to your collar bone letting her tongue run along your skin until her lips felt yours.

the intensity of her lips was strong and full, inhaling them into her mouth with you both trying to take lead. opened mouthed and husky breaths hugging one another’s tongues as your hand wraps itself at the back of her head. lips glistening as spit rolled down the sides of your mouths, chin and neck. she ran her tongue underneath yours before wrapping her lips around it’s muscles, suckling on it with a bobbing head.

pulling back to catch your breath, a smile crept on your lips, “open your fucking mouth..” you snarled playfully— her mouth ajar as you gathered spit and letting it fall at her tongue.

“ya’taste so good…” she couldn’t handle the absence of your mouth as she drank your spit, pushing you into her face as you study yourself back into the kiss. her thick muscle would roam inside of your mouth, spit bubbling and running from its sides, latching her lips and sucking up any that left.

her lips trailed down, fingers curling at the collar of your dress to yank its fabric down and hook it underneath your breasts, with the help of you unclipping your bra. now in her sight was your swollen nipples, wet and dripping and in need of release. she placed you inside of her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she felt your warm milk rush in the center of her tongue. eyes rolling back as she swallowed, your breasts being pushed into her face and nose while kneading them together as she sucked.

the taste of you was addictive, loving the watery yet thick texture you let out and how it felt as she swallowed it. leaning her head back, tugging at your nipple, she releases her latch, watching the way your breasts move so obnoxiously, “fuck you taste so good… can’t stop sayin’ that…” she exhaled, “and… and you’re just so goddamn hot i-“

she pushed your breasts together rougher, seeing the light sprinkle squirt out from your nipples, “i could cum just drinkin’ you…” sticking her tongue out as she aimed it into her mouth. it got all on the sides of her lips, the tip of her nose and chin, messing herself up and letting it fall down onto her lap. hurriedly she leaned back in, sucking on the other. each suck harder than the last, letting you fill her mouth, savoring it with every two to three sucks before she swallowed it all.

watching the way she seemed so desperate for more, the way her cheeks hollowed and expanded and her nasally inhales filled your ears with bliss as well as her velvety moans that vibrated and directed itself at your sore, sensitive nipples. your hand pressed at the back of her head, pushing her in closer, adoring the way her head bobbed as she sucked.

“oh you’re so cute… look at you, so fucking desperate for me.” you cooed, letting out a pleased laugh— her immediately feeling embarrassment wash over her entire being but her being able to finally taste you, feel you, indulge you was far more stronger. the look in her eyes were as if she was in need of you and only you, taking in every vowel you spoke, letting it cradle her clit. your soft thighs encapsulating the heat she exuded from her jeans, letting your knee touch right at her crotch. “you’re such a good girl… drinking from me. you like it don’t you?” you wince pleasantly, loving the sting of her harsh sucks at your irritated and hardened nipples.

nodding she removed her lips, running her tongue along the rim of her mouth when any of your milk started fell down her chin. “don’t tease me like that… won’t be able’ta control myself.”

“mm, yeah? keep sucking and show me how you’d lose yourself to me.” you demanded and she listened. the feeling of her sucks drove you to the brink of insanity— jolts of pleasure lining down your spine and up your thighs making you press your knee further into her jeans. her large hands exploring your womanly frame, grasping onto your ass as your dress began to hitch up your thighs— the tightness of the fabric pressing deep into your skin, letting it bubble at its rim. “get on your knees for me.”

removing herself, the echo of the chair being moved back was loud and quick, pressing her knees down onto the wooden floorboards. her face in meet with your black laced panties that had been soaked. placing your hand at the back of her head, inviting her to press her nose right against your clothed clit, rolling your hips against her face as she held onto your thighs, nails digging into it’s plushness. she inhaled your scent— the aroma of your arousal filling her airway, letting you feel the lining of her curved nose slide from your clit then down your folds, letting it dampen her skin.

“that’s a good girl… such a pathetic pretty thing… huff it.” you moan, loving the sight of abby and the way she allowed you to talk to her.

“fuck miss…” she inhaled, “you smell so nice… m’ losin’ my mind…“ eyes closed, turning her head slightly left then right— nose buried deep into your clothed folds until it left an imprint, fabric sticking to your wet cunt. “m’so pathetic… all for you… can’t stop thinkin’ bout your fuckin’ pussy and god knows how much i…. how much i needed this.”

your fingers slid at the side of her face, taking any loose strands that fell from her braid away from her face as she spoke— getting a hold of her braid stabilizing her head, lifting it granting a loud inhaling moan.

she looked up you, eyes flickering between your eyes then your lace. “you’re so wet for me, i can feel ‘em through your panties, see” she breathed, sliding her thick fingers to feel your puffy folds almost hug around them— your slick seeping through and coating her fingers. she rose her fingers, spreading them apart, admiring the string that connected from her middle to her ring finger before placing them on her tongue and sucking them.

she lifted your dress some more, just enough to show your full stomach as she held onto your waist, pressing her lips deeply at the soft pudge, leaving slow, teasing kisses against, her lips sinking in every meet, with her eyes staring right up at you. abby wanted you to know she admired the way that you looked, how soft your body had been, letting this moment be the time she overindulged in every part you’d let her. her lips rimming around your belly button, opening her lips as she let her tongue slightly caress at the skin, “so soft..” abby spoke in a hushed tone, spreading your thighs apart more as she pressed her nose right in the center of your clit, inhaling your sweet smell once more before rolling her tongue over it. “can’t get ‘nough of this pussy… it just smells so sweet.” she breathed, latching onto your clit as she started to slowly suck right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against her tongue.

“yeah…? you like it don’t you baby? huffing it like a dog in heat.” you tease, tilting your head to see those pretty lips that were in its usual pout spread against the lace. “come on big girl, show me how much you need it.” enjoying the feeling of her harsh inhales and exhales traveling against your skin as she sucked— moaning sweetly between every word as your hips buck into her face, rolling them.

pulling down your panties to the side, she saw the wetness connect from your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“m’ gonna fuck it with my tongue… may i…? can i have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself…?” her eyes not leaving your face, letting her tongue run up your slit as her mouth latches on.

“show me.”

just as she always does, she obliged, listening to your every request like a trained puppy— she pressed it’s muscle harder, circling her lips at the bud. with one hand holding her braid and the other at your hip, you press your shoe at her crotch, pressing down firmly, circling it around.

a tingling sensation bounced off her body, roaming through each part of her limps, the heat rose at her crotch was now your stepping stool. furrowing eyebrows and low grunts, her lips released, dropping her head down, she watched as your shoe pressed against her aching clothed pussy— her jeans already tight and harshly hugging her thighs to the point where she felt like busting through them. “fuck…” she breathed, spreading her kneeling legs apart, liking the pressure you placed on her. abby rolled her hips upward, eager to just feel something more— any attention to her cunt and the hard surface from the bottom your shoe, did wonders on her.

“i didn’t tell you to stop now did i pretty thing?” you coo as you lift her head by her braid, other hand sliding against her cheek with a slight stroke of her thumb before lifting and tapping her face, giving her a hard slap. her eyes widened and her hips jolted, feeling more of a press from your shoe— the throbs of her cunt matching it’s beats with the lingering sting of the slap, her moans growing louder and throaty. “oh?” loving the surprised glare abby gave you, “took you by surprise didn’t i?”

she smirked, basking in the tingle her face had, “the way you’re handlin’ me miss…” her lips now ghosting over your clit, “never had’a women talk to me like this before.”

“you like it, don’t you?”

“oh i surely do.”

abby was enticed with the way you felt against her tongue, pushing her face in as if there were to be any space in between, she’d want to fill her face in it— each lick, she curls her tongue at your entrance, hooking all that you leaked against her tongue, swallowing it and your labia fluttering in her mouth in the roughness of her suctions. popping her mouth off just to see the flesh of your pussy dance prettily and coated in her spit.

“please fuck my face miss…” she groaned in between sucks, “fuck it… please fuck it.”

her bitten nails piercing deep in your soft thighs and your ass, letting it fill her hands as she gripped and shook it in her grasp— your panties bunching and lining in between your ass. cocking a hand back, she spanked, a loud gasp croaking from your throat, hips jolting closer towards her face as she spanked you over and over again. “your fucking mouth… god youre so dirty… you make me feel so good.” you sigh, taking a deep breath as you found your legs buckling inward, hands at the top of her head— her neat braid now forming a mess.

“look how it’s drippin’… you needed this, didnt’ya miss?” admiring how wet you were for her, her eyes in full amazement— dazed by the taste and the scent. her tongue ran along your stripe, spitting on your clit, quickly lapping it up before she slowly slid its muscle in your opening. instantaneously you clenched against her, head bobbing as she let her tongue penetrate deeper into your cunt. it felt hot and warm, contorting her tongue just you can feel how hard her tongue worked— her nose bumping at your clit with her eyes watching your even reaction.

you were left in a moaning mess, unable to taunt her as much as you would’ve liked— she knew exactly what she was doing and how to please your pussy. moaning her name over and over again as your shoe continued to press harder against her crotch and your hips fuck up into her face. the grip she had on your ass, pulling you in even before she even thrusted herself outward, humming a line of ‘uh huhs’ as she took notice of the switch in your heightened sounds.

leaning herself back, there was a string of mixed slick and spit that connected you both, spreading your folds, spitting against your clit and letting it run down, quickly running her tongue up your folds, then spitting again. the spit turning stringy and somewhat slimy.

“stop.” you panted, yanking her head from her braid seeing her face wet, skin glistening in the mess she made from you cunt. strands of cluttering at her forehead as she tried her best to catch her breath.

“did i do somethin’ wrong?” lining her tongue against her lips.

“go on the couch. i need more.” taking your shoe from her crotch, watching the big woman get herself up on her feet, gulping down harshly as she walked towards the couch with you following.

“stand here.” you demanded, “watch me.”

your fingers curl at her buckle, feeling its cold metal against your fingers as you undid it, throwing it to the side and hearing it loud clunk against the floor following with her pants and boxers that you let puddle at her feet. your face now in view with her pussy— a warm deep honey flush of hair coating it , wild yet trimmed that lined all the way up her belly button. “im gonna let this pretty pussy fuck my tits.” you announced breathily.

she gasped in return, watching as you press your breasts together, poking out your chest with her hips following. “dont be shy… fuck it.” you tease, her hands holding onto your shoulders as you gather spit and let it fall at your thick, rounded breasts, already wet from abby’s hungry lips and you leaking.

she took no time to press herself onto you, the softness of your warm, wet breasts pressing at her hardened clit allowing a shaky moan to fall from her lips. no time was wasted before she rutted herself into your— her strong build making your body jerk at every thrust she gave. her clit felt warm and her slick tattooed your skin— each pull of thrust having a line of her slick connecting you both.

“good girl, fuck them rough.” you praised, abby now lost in lust, your leaking nipples dripping down onto your thighs and her own. the slaps of skin were loud and her moans were louder, gritting at her teeth. bending at the knees, you took a hold of one, rubbing your nipple down her folds, letting it feather her clit.

“it feels… so… goddamn good.” her moans broken but her thrust directed, throwing her head back as she let the sounds of her melodic moans bounce against the living room walls.

“that’s it, show mommy how good it feels.” you laugh, enjoying how abby lost herself for you. each part of her body was at work, lifting her shirt to show her own cute, small breasts, grasping on one and rolling her finger against her nipple. she twisted and turned at her, her body jolting forward, knees knocking inward, unable to keep herself standing.

you stood up quickly, needing to feel her against you. with a hand pressed at her chest, you pushed her down, watching her body bounce of the cushion. taking her jacket, you straddle her waist, your cunt pressed against her crotch as you take both her wrists in hand, pinning them above her head. your hips wildly roll upwards, feeling the sharpness of her shaped abdomen, letting your clit trail against it’s bumps as she breathed heavily. “god you’re so sexy…” you whined, your hips snapping as your body jiggled and moved— abby’s hands clasping onto your thighs then your stomach as it moved. “i want to fuck every… fucking part of your body…” you admitted, her stomach now wet with your slick before you let yourself run down and hover her cunt once more.

“been wantin’ta fuck you so bad miss…” she sighed, hips rolling up into you, mimicking the grinds you gave. the feeling of her jeans bumping at your clit, dampening it as your face snakes along hers. “drivin’ me insane…”

“oh am i now?” you moan prettily as you continue to roll your hips, feeling the heat between you both interlock. “i want you…” you breathe, voice shaking, “i want you to ride my pussy with yours… need to feel it on me.”

“miss… i would’a never thought you’d’a be so damn dirty…” abby grinned wickedly, eyes flashing dangerously at your request, turning you around so your back replaces hers on the couch.

grabbing you leg, she spreads them, lifting it, hovering herself over yours as she angled her clit on top of yours. her strong legs being pushed into your frame, feeling the weight of her strength in the consistency of her starting grinds. your fingers tug at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up to see the hair that trail down her belly button wash lightly against her pubic bone— her pussy fleshy and wet. at contact, a loud groan croaked from her throat, pressing herself down further and starting to move her hips.

she rutted her hips wildly, unable to control herself with the way you sounded at every movement she made. huskily grunting at the feeling of your beating clit pressing up against hers and down her wet folds. hearing the wetness of your collision rise with the moans that fell from your throats. grasping onto her arms, nails digging into its skin with eyes that connected as you spoke at one another in the song of your moans. “baby your pussy feels so good…” you call out.

“atta girl…” abby grunted, heavy hips lifting as they slammed against yours— feral, rigid, “m’gonna breed you… fill you up and make you pregnant.” that once sweet and soft spoken southern woman, losing herself in her lust.

abby knew she couldn’t— she wasn’t thinking straight at all. the adrenaline that pumped through her veins caused her to not even feel the ache that stirred in the quickness of her rolling hips. each thrust, she felt her body shudder with excitement, like her body took shots of this moment to remember. her clit, pounded against yours, loving the intensity of colliding skin and your moans that got whiner after every grunt she spoke.

beats of sweat slid down her forehead just like she had been out on the field, cascading down in stylized ripples, feeling the itch in the tickling drip. your eyes wide, it wanting to miss any second, feeling yourself close to a haze, unable to grasp at the fact that abby said she was about to breed you when it wasn’t even physically possible. it was hot nonetheless— your body arching into the couch cushions as your nails tattooed the thickness of her rough yet soft skin.

“say…” you breathe out in a struggle, feeling your moans flow from your throat on lumps, swallowing the spit and running their tongue against your drying lips, “say that again..”

she laughed in another hungered grunt, her large hand pressing down at your full chest, letting her palm slide up until it hooked around your neck, thumb firmly giving you a nice choke, “oh my…” abby laughed breathlessly, eyebrows knitting into a pleasurable expression, “m’ gonna make you a mama again— m’a breed this pretty pussy. you need it dont’cha baby… i know i needed this...”

“do it!” you shouted with a devilish grin, rolling your eyes back as your felt your stomach tighten and your limbs lock. unable to keep still, your body flared as you tried so desperately to hold onto something. even though abby had you in her grasp, each breath being harder to take with her tightening hold, and your legs in an unmoving position, your body couldn’t take all this pleasure. it was quick, rigid, hunger and outward looking in, anyone could see how desperate you both were for the building orgasm that flooded in the language of your body movements.

“fuck m’a cum… take it…”

her clit pulsated hard, squeezing a rasped grunt as she felt herself gush directly onto your push— a satisfied sigh after every one she made— the clear liquid splashing onto your stomach, her chest and your face.

it took you by surprise, snapping your neck up to watch her squirt right on you as she grinded it all into you, the puddling mess escaping everywhere and filling the lining of your stomach until it concave as you breathed in. the sight alone was disgusting hot, toes curling as your orgasm hit you harder than any toy you’ve used and definitely harder than any person tried in the past.

“fuck…” abby sighed, gulping down roughly with her hips slowing themselves down— her body now glistening with sweat, her muscles being more prominent than before.

“im not through with you yet.” you laughed, “no one’s ever made me cum this hard and that fast. need to ring you out dry.” letting go of her shoulders, taking her braid that slung over it, and pulling her down so your lips were inches apart, “you know how to work a strap on pretty girl?”

“you wan’ that? m’ might break you.” abby snickered, being well versed in the used of a strap on, having many herself back at home.

“break me big girl.”

•••

both of you were now free of clothing as she laid prettily on your bed, legs sprawled out to see her wet pussy being on full display. her clit was cute, fleshy, dripping with cum that ran down the innards of her thigh. you pressed deep and slow kisses against the inner of her thighs all the way to her clit, running the flat of your tongue on it and with each lick, she'd stare, watching as it’d move in the direction you licked. she tasted sweet, filling your mouth as your nose felt the tickle by the constant rub against her pubic bone, letting your lips take breaks in between to kiss alongside it. you ran your finger against the hood of your clit, watching its bud stand as you blew cool air against it— her body twitching at the soft blow.

“does it feel good?” you tease, each couple licks granting an inhaling suck. her eyes went back and forth, closing them and trying to watch as your face took it’s place in between her legs. she wanted to watch you, the way you looked so sexy rolling your muscle at her aching clit. she felt a constant throb huddled at her temples, jaw clenching as she let out soft grunts, bucking her hips up towards your mouth. the scent of her was strong and tantalizing, popping your mouth off just to see the flesh of her pussy flutter prettily.

she nodded, already feeling the building orgasm at the bottom of her stomach. you ran your tongue against her skin, letting it trail all the way up to her belly button before nipping at her skin— teeth grazing as you sucked gently, feeling the burn against your tongue.

“use your words.” you breath against her, allowing a trail of spit to coat over her exposed bud.

“it feels… so…” she hummed, gulping down roughly as her body jerked slightly with the movement of your flicking tongue, “fuck it feels good miss… please… please let me fuck you.” she begged, unable to wait much longer knowing she didn’t have time herself before she’d lose herself completely.

a smile resided on your lips as your hand slid against the cold bedsheets, grabbing onto the strap and harness you had gotten while stumbling your way up the stairs and into your room.

taking it, she stood, legs slightly locking. red flushed at her shoulders and cheeks, with wet trails that fell and lined down her legs and splattered on her stomach— getting a better sight of what made up of her build. her ass was tight and muscling, clenching so cutely as she put one leg in the harness after the other, letting it sit tightly at her hips that had been fastened. you took her place in bed, laying and watching her as she quickly assembled it onto herself. your fingers grazed over your clit, feeling your body jerk with sensitivity, humming out pleasantly as she made her way towards your bed once again.

her lips warm and soft, raw from the constantly prod of yours as you stumbled your way from the couch, up the stairs and into your bedroom— they were red and even more plump before, throbbing at every spread when she smiled.

“god miss…” another breathy sigh being exhaled, “you’re gonna make me all pussy drunk.” her hand wrapping around the dildo— thick and a reasonable length. one that could fill with its fake ejaculation and stretch you, make you gasp upon entering. it had been one of your favorites, never failing to make you cum as if you were in one of those films where the sex was hot from a quick hookup at a bar. you used it a lot and especially when you wanted your legs to give out, slamming it into you until your arms were raw in pain— loving the sight when you took its girth from inside of you, squeezing the ‘cum’ it let out.

“seems like you already are, dont forget, you were just huffing my pussy downstairs.” you teased, her body hovering yours as she let the tip of the dildo replace your fingers, sliding it up and down your folds with a firm press. “impress me. you have my hopes up, don’t want to be let down.”

she scoffed, her lips savoring gentle kisses in between every word you spoke, “just cause this shit fake don’t mean m’not gonna fuck you like it’s real, miss.” and with a lean, she gathered spit in her mouth, letting it fall at the tip of the dildo that had already dropped from your slick, letting it run down its detailed shaft before stroking it— twisting wrist and a firm grasp. “lift that leg up f’me.”

you obliged, holding on up as it still trembled, remembering that hard orgasm you had on the couch. her other hand, free, slapped your clit with no warning, replacing the immediate sting with a calming rub as you felt your body twitch coldly. you liked that. she didn’t treat you like you were helpless— she didn’t fuck you like she felt bad for you. a single mother all desperate for a good enough fuck to remember, that’s what people thought once they lay in your bed. they all looked at you, thinking by the sweetness of your smile, you weren’t able to take something as simple as a choke or a little back and forth between degrading words— but a slap to the cunt from a hand as rough and as big as hers? it felt good, and before you could even make a complete thought she did it again.

“you’re a dirty thing.” abby let out in a impressed sigh, your fingers replacing hers as they tried to soothe your clit from the slaps. your pointer and middle, spread yours folds open, allowing her to see your readiness. “you ready f’me?”

“show me baby… show me. ruin me.”

pressing your leg against her chest, you felt the softness of her small breast and the heaves of her deep breaths. she angled herself, the dildo slowly disappearing into your cavern with a gasping moan filling the air. her eyes glued themselves, admiring the way you took her so easily despite it’s girth.

the sting of your leg and how it had been lifted burned at your thigh, letting out a pleasured shriek once you felt yourself wrap around her entirely— folds hugging its shaft. sunken inhales and fingers clasping onto the bed sheets, her hips start to move slowly and at each thrust, you saw her abdomen form and flex.

“god you’re so big…” you whisper, her hips staggering as she dipped her body down, face inches away from yours as it hovered. “such a… good… girl, go faster…”

abby couldn’t contain herself. the tight hug at the harness nudged against her clit, already stimulated and throbbing from your now absent mouth. each push of her hips came a harder pound, loving the way your breasts obnoxiously knocked into one another, taking a hold of one as she latched her lips on them again. she sucked harshly, letting her hips loose as she rolled them faster into you.

“just… just like that.” you call out, her responding in humming ‘mm hmms’, only caring for your demands and the heightening moans you let out.

she fucked you good. she fucked you hard. your body jerking every time her skin came in contact with yours. lifting her head, your hands frantically moved gripping at her jaw. deeper she went, hearing your sounds and pleads for more. abby swore she could feel you wrapped around her. you let your fingers dig into her cheek, feeling in indentation of her teeth through her cheeks, bringing her her face down. you pressed a long warm kiss against her squished lips, her heavy breath from her nose blowing at your upper lip as she tried to keep her breath steady.

“oh fuck miss… you feel so good.” she cooed in between each kiss, capturing your tongue in her mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing her head. “i need’ta breed you… i want’a cum inside… please let me.” she begged, your tongue swiping across her lips, collecting the remnants of spit that coated them.

“come on big girl, fill me up.” you egged on, surprised at how close your orgasm was picking up. the heat between your bodies burning as the shift of your bed scrapped against the wooden floorboards. each thrust, you heard the hard collision of skin, your body and stomach moving as her hand gripped it, massaging it as she let her eyes fall from yours to your breasts to your stomach. “you’re so good to me… so good for me… the way you treat me… you deserve it… breed my pussy. impregnate me…”

a fleeting glint of mischief and eagerness glistening in her watercolored colored eyes, your words trapping her in a lust filled state as her hips lost its consistency but picked up in its power. eyebrows furrowing, and dripping spit coated lips, she felt herself nearing closer and closer.

“please..” she whimpered, chanting over and over as she let out soft cries, eyes welting from how good it felt and how you sounded.

“cum with me..” you spoke gently, a harsh gasp as you curl your toes, “cum for mommy… come on baby.”

“i… fuck…” her hand hurried in search and in hold of the valve that allowed the strap’s ’cum’ to fill itself inside of you. “im gonna fill you up…” right before she felt herself reach her high, she squeezed it tight, its warm, thick cum filling itself inside, pressing firmly at your walls as some seeped out with every pull of her thrust— a white ring surrounded the base of the shaft.

she let out a loud howl, releasing herself with a splash of her squirt coming from the side of the harness, spraying down on top of you and the bed. your rolled to the back of your head— body trembling rigorously as your push your orgasm down onto her shaft. loud and clear moans being fought from your mouths as she let herself thrust deeper and slowing its pace.

“god…” you breathed as she slid out, immediately sitting in between your legs, hand pressed at your thigh as you push them cum from inside of you out. it leaked, slowly escaping and falling to the bed. “look how much you filled me.” you laugh tiredly, her eyes growing at the sight.

“jesus…” she sighed all the while trying to catch her breath, “my apologies but i dont think i had’a nough…” she admitted, her body visibly worn but full of an adrenaline high to stop herself.

smirking to yourself, you nodded, running your tongue over your lips, “good, cause im not done with you.”

#lesbian #sapphic #wlw #tlou #the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby smut #abby tlou2 #abby x you #the last of us abby #abby anderson the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby x masc!reader

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nymphomatique · 8 months

Note

finally fucking nerd miguel but he cums after 5 secs being inside you but you won’t stop and just treat him like a toy and he’ll beg because he’s overstimulated but you don’t care cause it’s not your fault he cums fast right? 😌🥰

🫠 wow i got butterflies

cw: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), reverse cowgirl, miguel can carry us idc how big you are, miguel cums early but you do NOT gaf, creampie, some praise, teeny bit of teasing, soft ending 🤫 also not proofread you guys know this by now fr. enjoy 🤭

“hey, miguel,” you whisper across from him. the two of you were at the library sharing a study table, miguel doing research on your genetic mutation paper while you shopped online. he lowers his laptop screen to look at you, still shy as ever around you. “yes?”

i look at him and smirk a little, mouthing the words ‘i wanna fuck’ to him. you can tell he immediately picks up on what you said when you see his ears redden and his head snap down to look back at the mess of books, loose paper and pens, and his laptop strewn across the table.

you stand up and put your laptop in your bag, leaving against the table waiting for him. “well?”

he packs up immediately.

back at your dorm, as soon as you two step foot inside you’ve already dropped your keys, making a move to kiss miguel rather suddenly. he drops both his backpack and your purse on the ground in shock at how hasty you’re being today. he makes haste to match your fervent attitude today, his newly empty hands coming up to your waist to hold you gently as your tongue sweeps across his own hungrily.

you pull apart from him, a small spit trail connecting the two of you together at your lips, and you bring one of your hands up, swiping off the spit from miguel’s plump and swollen lips. wordlessly, you watch eachother, each of your eyes communicating the burning need inside you both. you move your thumb from its resting place on miguel’s lip to push past the soft flesh, miguel sucking on your thumb. through his sucking, the two of you maintain eye contact and it sends a burning through you, miguel’s brown eyes void of his glasses in place for contacts staring at you with such vivid emotion. lust, want, need.

“take me to bed,” you speak, breaking the silence. “yes, mistress,” miguel responds, thumb still in his mouth. his hands move from their placement in your waist to ended your ass, his hands big, but ever so gentle with you despite how you treat him. he bends to get leverage to pick you up and as he comes back up, you jump up into him, legs wrapped around his thick frame and arms around his strong neck. he’s been going to the gym, you think.

wordlessly, miguel carries you over to your bed, the two of you pulled into a state of looking at eachother. he sits down at the edge of the bed, with you now sitting in his lap.

you push his chest so he’s laying back on the bed, and his shirt tugs up a little, revealing the small trail of hair sitting at his lower stomach and disappearing beneath his the elastic band of his boxers.

you push his shirt up and over his head, and throw it behind you. you move up to sit directly on miguel’s crotch. you’re sitting upright, your body con dress you wore riding up your thighs a bit, teasing miguel for what he’s so anxious to see. you look down at miguel, his breathing slightly quicker than average, his face painted in a light blush at the anticipation of what you two were about to do.

you bend down, laying on top of miguel now and his breathing hitches. you laugh a bit, his excitement no matter how much you do this with him a bit endearing. “you wanna know something?” you start, face hovering above his, looking down in his eyes. miguel swallows and his adams apple bobs up and down. “you’re such a good boy for me.” you start. one hand begins to trail up his lower abdomen, lightly brushing until your hand reaches his neck, resting without any pressure. “you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, that i’m finally gonna let you fuck me.” you emphasize with a curt squeeze. miguel licks his lips and lets out a steadying breath at the revelation.

“strip for me,” you say, getting off of him, ridding yourself of you dress leaving you in your pink lacy bra and thong set. miguel shucks off his pants and you watch when he pulls his boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting is lower stomach. he’s huge. you knew this, and sometimes you even indulged in miguel during oral by being vocal about how his big cock is so deep in my mouth. but knowing he was going to be inside you? a different ball park. it’s proportional to the rest of his ligaments, matching his big feet, wide hands, strapping build and towering height. you’d estimate that he’s about 9 inches long, the biggest you’ve ever taken.

aside from being big, it was so mouthwateringly pretty. it was a gorgeous tan colour matching the rest of his golden skin with a pink tip, leaking with pre cum already. two thin veins ran along the underside of him, with a trimmed black tuft of hair sitting pretty at the base. his balls were big and swollen, and with the amount he came in your mouth most days, you’re sure that he’d absolutely pump you full today.

“lay back for me,” you instruct, removing your bra and leaving only your panties on. he lays back and you sit, ass facing him in and sitting on your knees in reverse cowgirl. you look back at miguel over your shoulder and you’re sure he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, the image of you in front of him like this, fat ass in his face with the little wet spot on your panties visible, any man with an attraction for women would look like him too.

you smirk at him, and reach behind you to move your panties to the side, exposing him your wet pussy. he lets out a stuttered breath at the image you can’t miss, and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. you grab his cock, warm and throbbing, and align it with your entrance. you tease him first, rubbing it along your wet folds and even brushing your clit. “tell me how bad you want it, miguel.”

“so- so fucking bad. please put it in? i want- need to feel you. ple- ah! please mistress.” when he’s done his babbling you sink down on his length, moaning at the burning stretch. “h-holy shit i’m gonna-“ and you feel something hot spurt inside you.

he came inside you.

you look back at him, deadpan expression on your face. he immediately is embarrassed and his face reddens, and the babbling apology starts. but you ignore him and lift your hips to slam them back down on his cock.

miguel’s hands jump to grab your hips, sputtering out a “t-too much, oh my god.” you roll your eyes at his audacity. “not my fault you can’t hold your load, man. you’re gonna keep going until i cum, no matter how much it is, got it?” you spit back, moving your hips up and down miguel’s length, feeling him hit every spot inside you.

“so deep inside, feels good,” you moan out. your hips are aching at the stretch of miguel’s dick, but it hurts too good to stop. “so fuckin’ big, baby. makin’ me- ah! making me feel so good,”

your words of praise give miguel a boost of encouragement, his hands on your hips pulling you back down on his length, his hips meeting you half way. his heavy balls begin to slap against your clit as he thrusts up into you, and the stimulation makes you shudder.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck. cum inside me. i wanna feel you inside me, miguel,” you moan, feeling light headed at the pressure deep in your gut. your hips are starting to slow down, but miguel doesn’t relent in his thrusts. he slams his hips up to meet yours and you feel like he’s in your throat. the erotic sound of miguel’s whining moans, the slapping of your skin, and your squealing at the pleasure is beginning to overwhelm you, and you feel your whole body go white with pleasure. “o-oh my god i’m cumming,” you manage to shake out.

miguel isn’t quite finished yet, he’s still fucking up into you through your orgasm and you swear your whole body goes numb. you’re cumming again. this time, miguel speeds up and with one last final thrust, he lifts his hips up into you and cums, letting out a heavy groan. you feel him begin to fill you up, some of his cum leaking out of you and onto his pelvis.

you’re both left breathless on the bed for a moment, relishing in the after moments of your orgasm. when you finally come to, you see miguel softly breathing, eyes closed. you move to lay in the crook of his arm and kiss his cheek, falling into the same breathing pattern, falling into unconscious bliss.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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heartshapedmisery · 11 months

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𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow is so babygirl

honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.

You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.

Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.

You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.

You didn't know there was such a thing.

"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.

"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.

The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.

"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.

His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.

"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.

Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."

Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.

Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.

You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.

"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.

"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.

He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.

"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"

Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"

As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.

"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."

He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.

Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.

Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.

After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.

"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."

When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.

"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.

You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.

"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."

Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.

"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."

He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.

It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.

Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.

Jon's eyes widened.

You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.

"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.

Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.

"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.

"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."

Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.

"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.

He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.

"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.

Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."

His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.

You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.

It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.

"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.

He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.

"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.

"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."

Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."

Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.

With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.

The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.

"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.

"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.

The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.

"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.

His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.

"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.

Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.

A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.

"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."

You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.

"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.

He shook his head gently. "Not there."

You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?

Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.

He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.

He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.

Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.

You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.

"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.

He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.

The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.

Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.

"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.

He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.

You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.

You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.

"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.

"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."

Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.

Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.

Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.

"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.

Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.

The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.

"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.

His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.

"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.

Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.

"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.

Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.

You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.

You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.

A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.

"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"

You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm far much warmer with you."

#jon snow smut #jon snow #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #fanfic #scarlet was here!#jon snow x reader

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aeth-supremacy · 1 year

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König - Projekt Amor

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: When the lab you're clearing with König has a hormonal weapon you didn't expect, you try your hardest to control yourself from him, but you can tell he's wanted this for a while.

Warnings: Smut, poorly translated German, some canon typical violence, and drug-induced sex.

Notes: I know many of you follow me for Ghost Band stuff, which I will continue to write!! I’m just gonna leave this here for my CoD enjoyers too <3

“Hello, König!” You smiled, taking a seat across from him on the plane. You looked around for a moment, expecting to see more of the team. Surprisingly, it was just the two of you, plus a pilot. König wore what he always did, and you adorned your gear for more hands-on missions, as you normally opted to stay back and operate some of the computers back at base. Behind you, the door sealed and your pilot began procedures for liftoff.

“Hallo, süßes mädchen.” König said simply. You could tell his eyes creased slightly behind his hood. A small gesture that he was happy to see you. He fidgeted lightly with a sheathed knife, his leg bouncing as he thought. Despite not being able to see his face, he looked handsome. Maybe it was something in his eyes, or the way his shoulders rested on the seats of the small plane. You wouldn’t dare tell him, but you thought he looked gorgeous. As you were about to pipe up and talk to him, a voice rang in through your headpiece.

“Listen up, kids. We got something simple for you today, and I know it’s just the two of you. We’re dropping you by a small building near a forested area, it’s said to contain some bioweapons in a basement lab that we gotta take possession of. Do not split up at any time. Do you copy?”

“Copy, Captain.” You chimed.

“Copy.” König added.

“Alright. Trust each other, come back in one piece. I’ll have some folk in touch if you run into trouble. Out.” The radio buzzed out. You looked back to König again, his leg bouncing faster and his gloved fingers playing with the hem of his hood.

“Are you nervous, König?” You asked sweetly. You didn’t want to make fun of him, you never did. But you could see the fear in his eyes from what people had said before, his eyebrows shifting defensively before he remembered who he was talking to. You and König don’t go way far back, but you had known him for a few months and you had been nothing but kind. You’ve talked to him without minding his pauses to think, you’ve stayed up late to help him with paperwork or talk through his feelings, you’ve gone to lunch with him so he wouldn’t feel so lonely, in all honesty… you’ve done a lot for him. He had a deep appreciation for you that he never spoke about, but he knew it was there, and that it was possibly even something more than platonic gratitude.

“Hmm… not really.” He paused for a moment. “I have faith in our little team, very much so! I’d just hate for you to get hurt when only I can help you, kleine maus. I’m not very good at playing the medic.” He laughed nervously.

“I won’t get hurt, I promise.” Your eyes met König’s as you spoke, his gaze softening at your promise. You don’t have a clue, but he would do anything to protect you. “How far out?” You called to your pilot.

“Bout’ 25 minutes, ma’am!” He called back. You thanked him as you stood up, walking across the small gap to sit beside your teammate. He turned his head towards you, his hands dropping to his thighs and his leg calming. You made pleasant small conversation for the rest of the ride, both simply enjoying the presence of the other.

————

When you arrived at the site, you never would've expected it to be a place with biological weapons. In fact, you even wondered if you were dropped at the right location. From what you could see, the site was just a humble wooden house in the forest, almost like a cabin. Its yard and landscaping were neglected, the paths to the door becoming overgrown and the wildflowers taking over the areas beside the porch. König took the path in front of you, his rifle at his side and his large body pushing up to the door and opening it by force. The pilot and his plane took off behind you, leaving you and König to clear the building and search for information for a good while before he would return.

You marveled at the way that you and König could work together. König was a trailblazer, a spearhead. He pushed from room to room, opening doors by force and shooting first. He dropped bodies everywhere he walked, and it amazed you that the soft spoken, shy boy you knew from the plane was put on hold. It was his job, after all. König was working. You two pointed in different directions, backs nearly pressed together, becoming a beautiful dance of bullets and coming out practically unscathed.

With his knife in one hand and a heartbeat monitor in his other, König announced. “Clear!” A body dropping to the ground beside him as his knife returned to its sheath. You followed quickly behind him, holstering your pistol as you walked.

“The basement.” You reminded. “Where is it? Did you find the door?”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “Over here, liebling.” He nodded his head to his left. The lighting that emitted from under the door was different from the warm white of the house, almost a cool blue, like aggressive fluorescent lights. He hesitantly walked over to it, slowly turning the handle as you both got your guns out once more. The door creaked open eerily, “Me first.” König stated.

He ducked to get into the stairway, you following only steps behind him. He rounded the corner sharply, pointing his gun in the direction of any possible movement. There were only two people there, a woman and a white coat with her hands up in the air, and a man in all black gear with a gun pointed right at you. König didn’t think twice as he shot the man, his heavy body dropping to the floor with a thud. You and König moved forward to the woman.

“On the ground.” You prompted. She obeyed, getting on her knees with a wince and leaving her hands where they could be seen. König walked a few feet away to take a glance at one of the many computers set up in the room. He leaned down slightly, silently observing a laptop with a blue and white screen. Files illuminated its display, and König only grazed his eyes over them in curiosity. The computer work was your job, after all. You kept your gun pointed at the woman, only looking over at your partner for a few seconds to see what he was doing.

The woman saw her opportunity. She picked up an unmarked grenade off of the ground near her, pulled its pin and threw it at König as fast as possible. A guttural scream left your throat, a bullet instinctively blowing into her brain as you panicked with the most terrifying thoughts. König’s eyes widened as the grenade dropped to his feet. Rather than an explosion, the grenade simply leaked a pinkish substance from a few holes in its base, almost gas-like. As soon as he noticed it wasn’t going to explode, König picked it up and threw it up the stairs. The pink haze remained around him, his chest heaving as he attempted to calm himself down from his panicked thoughts of mortality.

“König, König!” You rushed over to him, a hand placing onto his chest as you pushed him into another room within the basement. He stumbled backward slightly, catching himself on a door frame as you backed him into the room and opened the door for him. It had no people, no gasses, it was just a simple single office. The lights were back to being a warm beige color. It had a few computers on one desk together, filing cabinets, a few desk chairs, a small fan in the corner, and a few little areas with bookshelves or plants. “It’s okay! I’m right here, you’re okay. I promise.” You assured König as you walked with him. You shut and locked the door behind you, placing your partner slowly down onto a plush desk chair across from the main desk. His wide eyes looked up at you, petrified.

“Oh Scheiße, was ist das? Was passiert mit mir Liebling?” He spoke quickly in his native tongue. You felt so horrible, letting something like that happen to him. You could tell how much his anxiety was beginning to affect him, his ability to speak English practically fleeting, and his words beginning to slur together ever so slightly. You attempted to give him space, but his hands flew to your waist as he panicked. “No! Don’t go-” The look in his eyes tugged at something in your heart. He looked miserable, like he was so helpless he could almost cry.

That’s when you knew something was very wrong, König was far from helpless. You’d seen him destroy foes moments ago and how his eyes were pooling at the sight of you.

“I’m not going anywhere, König. I just need to take a look at their files, okay? I need to figure out what they threw at you. I’ll be right here. I’ll never leave you.” You assure. He nodded, his breaths calming as he let go of you slowly. The lack of your body made him antsy, the feeling of your body heat in his hands mysteriously making his ache from the gas relieve. He shut his eyes and let his head drop, heavy breaths leaving his covered lips.

You moved to the other side of the desk, punching in an access code to their computers as you desperately searched their files. The screen illuminated with documents, hundreds of reports and tests written out in front of you. You scrolled past what your captain wanted you to find, your mind only being set on König. You needed to help him. He is what you cared about, fuck the mission.

“Will I die?” König muttered while staring down into his lap, almost too quiet for you to hear. Almost like he was asking himself.

“No! No, I will NOT let you die.” You typed furiously as you sifted through the files on all the lab's projects, past and future. Until you landed on one… Project Cupid. The title page included a blueprint and prototype of the exact grenade thrown at König. Your eyes sifted over the lab report, hoping for an idea of what he was going through.

“Es ist so heiß hier drin… it’s so hot-” He whined. He threw off his vest, rolled up his sleeves, and took off his helmet and gloves. His hands shook as he attempted to relieve himself of his discomfort, his sorry attempts proving useless to the crawling in his skin. “I can’t take it, maus… lass mich dich noch einmal berühren…” He begged from behind his hood, his hips shifting in the seat you had placed him in. His native tongue caused his voice to rasp, he was almost growling as he spoke. He threw his head back, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying.” You urged. You read the symptoms, the outcomes, just anything that it could do to him. It was a sex bomb. A pheromonal gas. König was squirming and sweating out of his mind. Being this way wouldn’t kill him, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. His chest was heaving, his forearms were sticking to the chair, and as you suspected, a painfully prominent tent was in his pants. “Holy shit…” You whispered.

“What? What?” He asked as his view shot back to you. “What is it?” He looked at you with desperation, his eyes begging behind his hood.

“You… you won’t die, König. You’re being affected by a pheromonal gas. It’s gonna feel really hot, you’re gonna be pretty uncomfortable, and you’re probably pretty… aroused?” You attempted to explain. König groaned.

“Oh fuck-” He began. “I’m so sorry, maus. Fuck- I never should’ve let this happen. I’m so- ahhh- Es tut mir leid. I should've been more careful…” He moved his hips lazily as he spoke, the friction from his pants alone almost causing him to moan. You looked at him from across the desk, his eyes squeezing shut with every movement and his hands going white-knuckled on the arms of the chair. The reports told you exactly what you needed to know. You knew he was gonna be like this for a while, especially if you don't help him.

But you couldn't. Not when the reports explicitly told you he wouldn't be thinking straight soon.

“Everything is okay! We’ll get you through this, König. How about you lay down on the ground for a second? It’ll be colder down there.” You moved from your spot at the desk and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, his teeth clenching as he tried not to make a sound. Even a touch as small as that, a simple graze to his clothed shoulder, he wanted to tear your clothes off and fuck your brains out.

“O- of course. Yes… I’ll do that.” He got up slowly, his legs weakly carrying him as he made his way to lay in the middle of the room, his large body relaxing against the cool concrete floor. He was still breathing heavily, and you could still see that sweat was trailing down his forearms. His back relaxed against the floor, his face looking upwards at the ceiling. The lights danced in his vision, his mind hazed with lust.

You felt bad, so bad. But there wasn’t entirely anything you could do, you knew his headspace wasn’t entirely clear and he didn’t want to do anything that either of you would regret. “Is that better?” You asked. You stood a few feet away from him, looking down on him.

He trailed his big hands along the black athletic pullover that he always wore under his gear, quickly undoing the zipper and pulling it over his head. It took a bit of his hood with it, revealing his open mouth and a part of his nose. What you could see was stunning. Scattered stubble, soft lips, faded scars. Shockingly, König didn’t care that part of his face was showing, or maybe he didn’t even notice. His chest was bare and toned, the sweat and scars together making a gorgeous view. His stomach didn't present as all abs, he still cutely supported a soft belly. “So heiß…” He simply responded.

“What was that?” You asked.

“It’s so… fucking… hot.” He panted. You nodded, briskly walking over to the fan in the corner of the room and turning it onto high as a last resort. You looked around, looking for anything else that could help him. “Please… please help me, schöne taube. Let me touch you again.” He sat up from his position, his hood falling back down. He backed himself into a wall, the cool paint pressing onto his back and forcing a moan from his lips. You walked over to him, not quite understanding what he meant.

“Does that help you, König? Do you feel better when you hold me?” You hadn't read that this would help him in the reports, but you really did desperately want to help him. You hated seeing him like this, this distressed and distraught state. You held out your hand to him. He grabbed your it with greed, pulling you down onto your knees to be with him on the floor. His mind was moving faster than his mouth, his lips babbling on as he pulled you into him. You rested next to him, your thigh touching his. He placed his hands along your arm, holding it gently and placing your hand on his clothed cheek, beginning to run it down his chest.

“So much better… so sehr… please, please- I need to touch you more. Please. I need to feel your skin against mine, schöne. Fuckkk- I need you!” König babbled. You could see his hips moving, his cock aching within his pants. He attempted to drag your hand down to the tent, but you sharply pulled away.

“König, I can’t. I can't touch you… like that, I’m sorry. I know you’re not thinking clearly… I can’t do that to you when you may not really want it.” You spoke, bringing your hand back up to hold his cheek. He whined at the touch, his own hand dipping between his legs to press down on where they met. He looked into your eyes, sweetly, and let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.

“Scheiße, bitte, ich meine es ernst! I’ve wanted you since I met you, mein schatz. Please, pleaseee. Fuck, fuck- just fuck me, I beg of you! I ache, I need you. I promise I really want you. I want you so bad!” König continued his begging as he clawed at his belt, his ungloved hands easily undoing it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can't take it-” König quietly realized that he might've sounded ridiculous.

You looked down at his tented pants, and back up to his eyes. You nodded at him. He was serious, something about his eyes told you so. It was all coming back to you now. The way he would relax into you when you sat next to him, when he would laugh with you at lunch, when he would ask you out for drinks between just the two of you, even when he would reach the top shelves for you. He liked you. Damnit, he might just love you. “Just promise me you won’t regret this later.” You pleaded.

König lifted his hood and threw it off of his head. His eyes met yours as he sighed with the relief of showing you his whole face. His eyebrows were knit together, his eyes showing a needy side of him you never thought you’d see. “I could never regret anything with you, kleine maus.” He grabbed you by the waist once more, bringing you onto his lap. One of his hands flew up to the back of your head, making a fistful of hair and pulling you into a messy kiss. You gave in instantly, your whine being muffled by his own.

The way he handled you… you could feel a wave of lust take over your body. His hands ran down your body, his fingertips trailing and tracing every part of you that he could as he muttered his gratitude to you. He tugged at your shirt, undoing the tuck you had done so perfectly in the morning. His hands ran into the bare skin of your stomach, a happy groan coming from his throat. “Oh god… thank you so much, maus. Your skin- mein gott. It’s like heaven.” Your hands shot to the side of his face, your kiss deepening as you pressed your chests together. König’s hands pulled your shirt upwards, your arms lifting to allow him to fling it somewhere in the room.

His hips still needily rutted against yours, your mind slipping from sane thoughts every time you felt his hard cock brush up and down against you. With every kiss, you felt like you were about to break, and he did too. He felt horrible, he knew he wasn't properly preparing you. Normally, he would have laid you out and stretched you with his fingers and wetted you with his tongue… but this was no normal occasion.

You moved your hands away from his face to tug at your belt, removing it and tossing it behind you. König noticed, his hands falling from your stomach to the hem of your pants. He nudged at the button, undoing it and sliding your pants off of you while you helped him. Except for your underwear and boots, you were bare for him. You had never been this exposed to him before, and the look on his face told you he couldn't be more excited.

Gently, König slipped a set of two fingers down past the lip of your panties. His half-lidded eyes met yours, praise seeping from his lips as he grazed your soaking pussy and pressed his fingers lightly onto your clit. “Oh je, du hübsches Mädchen! Do you want me this bad? This is for me? Danke~ you're so good for me.” He practically growled into your ear. You nodded at him in response, your head resting on his shoulder as he sank his fingers in. “Perfect, my love.” He groaned. “Mmm, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Fuck, you didn't know he would be so vocal like this. Maybe it was the added hormones talking, but you loved it either way. As you desperately reached down to König’s pants, he drug his fingers out of you and placed them into his mouth. He hummed against the taste, his eyes admiring you pulling down his pants like you'd die without feeling him. He watched your eyes widen as you met with his hard cock, and he knew this would happen. He wasn't just impressive in the field or in the height department. “K- König I-” You began.

“Shhhh, kleine maus. I know, I know you can take me. C'mere, let me help you, please.” König’s hands traveled along your hips, bringing them to hover over his cock. Even under the influence of a hormonal drug, he cared. He looked up at you, a softness in his eyes as he used one hand to line himself up with your cunt. “Deep breath, love.” He instructed, his thick tip poking at your entrance before it slipped into place within you. You let out a strangled moan as you felt the burning stretch of his cock. Konig stopped begging as much now, he knew he had you. You were whining desperately as he spread you apart.

“Holy shit, König! Oh fuck- God, you're so big-” You whined, König’s arms continuing to push you down onto him. The feeling gave a subtle burn, your muscles tensing and trying to relax. He gave you a soft smile, wrapping his arms around you and hugging your waist as your hips pressed back into his, closing the distance and pressing him deep inside. You hugged him back, your arms resting on the top of his broad shoulders. His hips desperately shifted upwards, begging to fuck into you.

After a few moments of deep sighs and adjustment, you told him you were ready and his hands returned to your waist. He lifted you with ease, his strong arms guiding you to bounce up and down and coat this thick cock with your juices. “Heilige scheiße! You’re so good- you… you feel so good!” He pleaded. “Danke, mein leibling!”

He looked at you in amazement, his hands traveling up to take off your bra as you rode him at a slow pace. He flung it somewhere in the room, his hands on your tits and his fingertips digging into them with need. He looked hypnotized, watching your pussy engulf his huge cock in a way he thought no one could. You cured his ache so well, he just wanted to destroy you. He wanted to fuck you so hard you couldn't think. He wanted to claim you from the inside and ruin you for any other man. You're his. His dick still ached inside of you, his sensitive head hitting the most perfect spots inside you as he craved more.

“Please, can I please take control of you? I need it, baby. I need to fuck you my way. I need to ruin you, schöne taube.” König’s grip back on your waist tightened as he waited for your answer. You felt his sweaty chest against yours, your bodies sticking together. It made you whine, your nesitive nipples grazing against the rough of his chest.

“Please…” You begged. “I need you, König. I need you so deep and strong and-” Before you could even finish, König had flipped the two of you, Your back pressed against the chilled floor, your thighs folded into your stomach as König placed your legs on his shoulders. His hands pressed on the back of your thighs, shoving and manipulating them into the position he wanted to ruin you in. You moaned loudly as he slammed deep into you, a penetrating force so strong you could almost cry. “König! Fuck, you're so good!” You yelped.

König was deep in his drunken haze, his hands pushing your squishy thighs back so he could fuck you deeper. He fucked you with a much faster pace now, the sound of your skin meeting echoing as you whined helplessly beneath him. He traced his hand down to your clit, his thumb tracing lightly along your nerves. “Oh, ja, scheiße! Take me, sweetheart. Take me, take me, take me!”

He leaned down, a soft kiss being placed on your lips to contrast the rough fuck he was giving you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you tightened down on him, his big hips continuing to fuck through the tightness. His aching flared again, his cock twitching as he fucked you. God, he needed to cum so badly. He needed to cum so badly this whole time. Ever since he took a breath of that drug, he laid his eyes on you and imagined fucking you into oblivion. Hell, he imagined it long before that. He imagined it alone in his room after long nights drinking with you, or even on days when you only said a single word to him.

You brought your hands up to his face, holding his soft cheeks and looking into his eyes as you spoke. “Do you wanna cum for me, König? You're doing so good for me.” You smiled at your subtle tease, his eyes melting as you spoke. It was like you had just read his mind. You went on a limb that he would like what you said, but he confirmed that by fucking into you faster. He let out growls and grunts with every thrust, throwing away the idea of embarrassment and anxiety and embracing the hormonal drug running through him. His thrusts began slipping, your walls tightening down harder on him as you chased release too.

“Mmm…schatz, I’m going to cum! Can I cum for you?” He groaned, his sloppy thrusts becoming unpredictable. Your cunt spazzed around him, your juices coating him further as your back arched in unimaginable pleasure. You felt the coil in your stomach snap, a scream of König’s name leaving your lips as he drug his cock out of you. As you laid out on the floor, spent and breathless, König sat on his knees above you and wrapped his hand around his cock. He stroked himself with urgency, his head flying back as he groaned your name. “Oh hübsches Mädchen, du fickst mich so gut!” Your wetness coated his cock and his hand, cum quickly shooting from the tip of his dick and landing beautifully on your stomach.

König slumped back against the wall, his hand returning to his side and his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked around for his shirt, leaning over to get it and making it into a ball, whispering to you as he made his attempt to clean you up. “Danke… you were so good to me. I’ve wanted you like that for so long.” He mumbled. “What would I do without you?” He asked. You giggled, your hand reaching to hold König’s. He smiled at you. You both took a moment to breathe, collecting your clothes, putting the back on, and gathering the data you had been sent for.

You leaned over the lab computers, plugging in a flash drive as König called in and requested evac. As you typed, König walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His masked cheek pressed against your back. “Can we please cuddle when we get back to base, maus?” He mumbled, squeezing you gently.

“Absolutely, König.”

#könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig smut #könig x you #konig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig fanfiction #call of duty mw2 #könig mw2

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Maintenance Request: Chapter 13

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 9.3k

chapter summary: you (10:42 PM): going home with Joel 😳 a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, poetry (links at the bottom), cursing, we are earning that explicit rating today folks, pet names (honey, baby, gorgeous, darlin’, my smart girl, my pretty girl, my good girl, sweetheart, handsome, cowboy), smut: fondling, kissing, cuddling, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), mention of breasts (and fondling), grinding, p-in-v sex, creampie (reader is on birth control, but wrap it up IRL, folks)

Chapter 13

Friday, October 25 (still) Ninth week of the semester

The ride to Joel’s was full of tension, in the best possible way. His hand quickly found a home on your leg and his fingers wandered to the inside of your thigh over the course of the drive. You sent Beth his address, which he dictated dutifully when you asked, and tucked your phone back in your pocket before reaching out to hold his hand while you watched him drive.

At a stop light he looked over and met your gaze. He smirked. “See something you like, darlin’?”

You hummed. “Reckon I do, cowboy.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Reckon I like the look of you in my truck, gorgeous.” You smiled.

Joel didn’t live too far out of town, it turned out, and you realized he lived in the same suburb as you, just at different ends.

“Not too far from me, then,” you observed. He nodded.

His house wasn’t huge, but clearly well-maintained. It looked homey and comfortable even from the outside.

The landscaping, though, was amazing. You stared at it through the window of the truck.

“Holy crap, Joel.” You could hear the wonder in your voice. “Did you do all of that?”

There was some grass, but what drew your attention was the beautiful arrangement of trees and bushes curving from the front around the side of the house. And there were flowers everywhere. It looked wild and riotous, in a way, but also planned, like it had been encouraged to grow into its shape. You wished it wasn’t so dark out so you could take in the full effect. “It’s beautiful,” you breathed, and as your breath fogged up the window you realized you’d leaned in so close your forehead was almost touching it. You finally looked over at Joel and realized he was blushing.

“Er, yeah. That was me.” He cleared his throat. “Sarah helped, a bit. She’s not as into it as I am, but she knows her way around a garden.” While he pulled to a stop in the driveway you were jumping out of the truck almost before you realized it. You stepped on to the path of stones that led through the front yard with your mouth open in awe, looking around you at the plants that guided and formed the path. You stepped forward slowly, looking around you and taking it all in. Distracted, you barely noticed the sound of his footsteps as Joel came up behind you. His arms slid around your waist and his face found a home in the curve of your neck. You could feel the heat of his blush and raised one of your hands to tangle in his hair.

“Joel, this really is beautiful.” You were still breathless and could hear it. “I just— I’m amazed. It looks so…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words. You hesitated, and recited,

“the bumblebees furrow the pursed and purple lips of false indigo for the dusty blush and I want to go make a hallelujah of my own simple body.”

He pulled back and spun you by your hips to face him. “Was that from a poem?” You smiled and nodded, a little sheepish. “I love it when you quote poetry to me, baby. God, you’re so fucking smart.” He sounded breathless himself.

You grinned. “Does that do it for you, cowboy?”

He pulled you into a searing kiss, right there in his front yard.

“It really does, honey. I love watching you work. I love learning how you think.” You closed your eyes as he kissed your neck. “How do you always know the right poem for the moment? You’re breathtaking. You take my breath away.” He kissed you again.

“Joel,” he hummed in response, kissing you. “Take me inside.” He nodded and kissed you again. “Joel.”

He laughed and pulled back. “Alright, let’s get off the lawn.”

“I do want a garden tour, later. When I can see it.”

He grinned. “Whenever you’d like, gorgeous. And just so you know, I don’t have any of those flowers that make you sneeze.”

You blinked, stunned. “Really? None of them?” He nodded. Wow.

Joel took your hand again and the two of you walked towards his front door, and then through it into his front hall. Just as you’d thought from seeing the outside, the inside was welcoming and warm. You could see that it wasn’t messy, but he hadn’t really tidied — maybe he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up or assume anything. Sarah’s soccer bag was by the front door, and a pile of shoes teetered by the front closet. As you stepped into the living room you noticed a blanket hastily thrown over the back of the couch. There were some books on the coffee table, as well as a pile of what looked like Sarah’s schoolwork.

The walls were deep, forest green, and the furnishings drew you in like a warm hug. As you peered into the kitchen, you noticed that other than some dishes in the sink, it was pretty neat.

You realized Joel hadn’t followed you and turned to find him watching you explore. He looked worried, but like he was trying to hide it, despite running his hand through his hair and giving himself away.

“It’s lovely, Joel. It feels like—” you cut yourself off, but you could see he wanted to know what you thought. “It feels like a home.”

He smiled and looked down, hand on the back of his neck. “That’s probably Sarah’s influence, not my doing.” You shook your head.

“I don’t believe you. Not now that I know what you’re capable of, with that garden outside.” He smiled as you stepped closer to him.

“Do you want a drink, darlin’?” He placed his hands lightly on your hips and squeezed. You hummed and placed your hands on his chest in response. “I think,” you started, stepping closer to bring your chest in contact with his, sliding your hands around his neck, “that I don’t want a drink.”

He smirked. “No?”

You shook your head. “No. I think—” your mouth was so close to his, almost touching. “I think I’d like—” he leaned closer, but you turned your head so he kissed the corner of your mouth. “A tour.”

It took him a minute to respond. “A tour?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded, and hid your smile. “You know, see the rest of your house.” You paused, drawing it out. “Maybe your bedroom.”

You felt him grin against your cheek and he tightened his arms around you. “Oh baby, you only had to ask.” His voice was deep and you could feel it vibrating in your chest.

He spun you around so that you were facing the stairs and started to walk backwards. “Well, here you see the living room. That’s the kitchen,” he nodded in its direction. “The backyard has a bigger garden.” You perked up, but he pulled you in and kept you in front of him. “Later, gorgeous. We’ve got places to be.”

You laughed. “Is “places” your bed?”

He grinned, unrepentantly. “See? My smart girl.” You reacted to that in a way you hadn’t expected, and you knew he could see it. You could almost feel your pulse pick up and your breath hitched. But you had something else on your mind.

“Can I glance at the backyard, Joel?”

He smiled. “Course you can, darlin’.” He changed directions and led you to the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen instead.

You stood at the door, and Joel turned on the back porch light to let you look. He was right, it was hard to see much outside, but you could tell even then that there were plants growing everywhere. You could see the path that led away from the porch and then split in different directions. Part of you wanted to go outside and explore it, right then, but Joel stepped up behind you and placed his hands on your waist. He kissed your neck and murmured, “I’ll show you everything tomorrow, darlin’. When we can see it.” You nodded and leaned back into him. He ran his lips softly along your jaw before pressing another kiss in front of your ear. In a low, warm voice, he asked, “can I kiss you, gorgeous?”

You smiled. “You are kissing me, Joel.”

He squeezed your hips before turning you and stepping close. “I told you earlier, honey, I’ve been thinking about the way you kissed me in your office. I can’t stop thinking about it.” His right hand came up to touch your face. “The way it felt to have you pressed against me. The soft noises you made when I kissed you right.” He ran his thumb lightly across your lips. “The way you fit just right in my arms.”

“Me too, Joel.” You closed your eyes and saw the moment again. Joel, between your legs as you perched on the desk, driving every thought right out of your mind with his touch. With his lips.

“So honey,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Can I kiss you again?” You opened your mouth to say yes, but the sound of the ‘y’ was barely out of your mouth before his lips met yours.

You felt him everywhere. His hands held you in place, one at the back of your neck, one curving around to your back. The warmth of him pressed against you, so solid. His kiss grounded you and set you alight.

He started slow, but before long the passion you’d found against your desk returned. You opened your mouth and he took advantage, his tongue teasing along your bottom lip before sweeping inside.

You opened your legs and Joel stepped forward, reaching down to hitch one around his hips, which came forward and nestled right against yours. You sighed into the kiss, and he broke away to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “You feel perfect against me, honey,” he murmured, pulling your hips forward against his own. You felt the warm length of his cock through his jeans. “Like you were made to fit in my arms.” You brought your own up and around his neck and buried your hands in his hair, returning his kisses along the collar of his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about how you pressed me against my desk all week, Joel.” He hummed and tilted his head to give you better access. “Almost did let you get in my pants right there.”

He laughed. “I would’a jumped at the chance, gorgeous. I know I already told you but, well, I’ve had a bit of a crush on you, you know.”

“Oh?” You smiled, and leaned back to rest your head against the glass door, meeting his gaze. His lips were adorably red and a bit swollen, his hair tousled and messy. You liked the look on him.

“Mm-hmm. Couldn’t take my eyes off you that first day, or any day since, if I’m bein’ honest.” He smiled ruefully. “You swept me off my feet, honey.” You bit your lip. He watched.

“In a way, you did the same to me, you know.”

He shook his head. “Baby, we both know you didn’t like me—”

“No, Joel. Even if I was blaming you for whatever had gone wrong that day, I still couldn’t ignore you. I already told you you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t lying. And god, I was so mad that you were so hot. Especially after I poured coffee all over myself.” You laughed. “You sure do inspire strong emotions in me, handsome.” He grinned.

“Well, baby, I sure am glad those emotions turned positive.”

“It didn’t take long, Joel. I was avoiding the truth.”

He shrugged. “We still got here.” He squeezed your hips.

“Finally,” you teased. He kissed you in retaliation.

“Speaking of here, Joel, when do I get the rest of my tour?” You pursed your lips against a smile and tried to look serious. He laughed.

“My apologies, darlin’, please follow me. I’ve saved the best for last.” You laughed too, knowing exactly where he was taking you. He guided you towards the stairs and you separated, finally, and followed him up, taking the chance to admire him from behind. It was a nice view.

At the top of the stairs, Joel turned again and took your hand. He stood there and pointed at the doors down the hall, starting with the one at the far end. “That’s Sarah’s room, and her bathroom. That’s the guest room, but really it’s Tommy’s.” He pointed at the one in between Sarah’s and the door you were stopped next to. “And here we are,” he pulled you close and tucked you into his side as he opened that final door. “Last stop on the tour.” He used his grip on your hip to guide you in front of him, and you took in his bedroom.

Your first thought was that it was just like him. A bit messy, but warm. Inviting. Heavy wooden bed, nice furniture, decorations and furnishings that were clearly chosen with purpose — it all fit right into your mental image of Joel. He might not have tidied, but it did look like he’d made up the bed with clean sheets.

“Hmmm,” you let him wait for your answer. “I like it.”

He huffed a laugh and buried his face in your neck again. “Well, ain’t that a relief.” You laughed, too.

Joel stepped closer until he was flush against your back. You leaned into him, closing your eyes and sinking into his warmth and the feel of him. “Can I kiss you, darlin’?” His voice was playful as he asked you again for permission, and you quirked an eyebrow.

He started pressing kisses up your neck and you dropped your head to the right to give him better access. “Hmm, you are kissing me, Joel. You have been.”

He opened his mouth and ran his teeth down your neck before closing them and worrying a mark at the edge of your shoulder. You sighed and let him take your weight, leaning back into him fully. “Can I kiss you everywhere, baby?” As he asked, he slid his left hand down over your stomach until it rested right above your core. He flattened his hand and pressed down as he pressed another kiss below your ear. “Can I kiss you right here?”

You felt suddenly like you were on fire. A sharp tingle ran up your spine and over your scalp as you gasped. Your hands moved without your conscious input until they were clutching at the arm he still had wrapped around your waist. You couldn’t find your words, but you opened your legs wider, and you felt him grin against your neck.

“Oh, does my pretty girl like that?” A breathy, high pitched sigh escaped you as he started moving his hand lower. “Hmm, I think you like that. ” He kissed your neck as his hand moved down to cup your pussy lightly. “Which part is it that you like, baby? Is it that I think you’re pretty?” You did like that, but that wasn’t it and he could tell. “But you knew that already. Is it that I called you mine?” Your breath hitched again and you tilted your hips up to give him better access. He tightened his grip. “That’s my good girl.” You reacted before you consciously recognized his words, a soft moan slipping between your lips. You felt Joel grin into your neck.

“I gotta ask you again, baby. Can I kiss you? Right here?” He squeezed his left hand over your pussy and you sucked in a breath. “What was it you said outside… ‘make a hallelujah of my body.’ Let me do that for you, baby. Can I give you my mouth? Let me see how pretty you are when you come, honey. Can I?”

His words shook you into motion, and you nodded, finally. “Yes, Joel.” You couldn’t believe he remembered what you’d said. Your voice was breathy and you could hear your own arousal taking over. “Please.”

“Shh, honey, I got you.” he slid his hand back up to your hip, and you almost protested before he started to guide you forward. “I’ll give you everything you want.” He turned you and guided you down to sit on the edge of his bed before kneeling in front of you. Your eyes tracked him the whole way down.

Joel placed his hands on your knees and you watched as he slowly slid them up your thighs, skirting around where you wanted them most before coming to rest at the waistband of your pants. You sighed and he pulled lightly on the waistband before undoing the button, urging you to move your hips forward towards the edge of the bed. He murmured, “c’mere, honey.” His voice was somehow even deeper than before, rumbling gently over you. Your eyes fluttered shut.

He tugged your pants down gently, taking your underwear with them. You fought the urge to close your legs against his scrutiny, but as quick as they were gone his hands returned and held your thighs apart. You opened your eyes, not wanting to miss a minute of him between your knees.

“Let me see that pretty pussy, honey. Been dying to set my eyes on every inch of you. Was torture, feeling how warm and wet you were even through your pants, back at the bar.” His words made your cheeks burn, but you stopped yourself from pulling away and opened your thighs, letting them fall to either side. His eyes immediately locked on what you revealed to him. He quirked that half smile that had caught your eye from the very beginning.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, and scooted closer. He leaned forward, and you felt his breath against your inner thighs. It made you shiver. “I can’t wait to taste you, honey. I know you’re going to be sweet.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. Your breath hitched. “And juicy.” He grinned.

You laughed. “Been wet down there for a while, I know you know that.”

“Well, darlin’, don’t leave me hanging. How long is a while?” He brought one of his hands forward and teased lightly along your slit with his fingers. You squirmed.

“Since, ah,” you sighed as he pressed a kiss right above your pussy. “Since you kissed me in my kitchen. And then, well, you kept touching me. And dancing, and then on your lap—” You cut yourself off.

He caught your eye again, and his eyes were dark. “Baby, you been wet all night? Just like this?” You nodded, biting your lip. “Should’a told me. I’m not the kind of man that leaves a woman waiting.” He splayed his hands on your hips and moved his thumbs down to rest gently on each of your lips.

You sucked in a breath. “Oh?”

Joel nodded, and grinned. His expression was all lust and mischief. “Goes against my principles.” You laughed. He was cute like this, talkative and dirty. You had no idea he’d be so talkative in bed, but you loved it.

He pressed down with each thumb and opened your pussy to his gaze. Suddenly you were overwhelmed – sitting there, legs splayed open to him, with his thumbs spreading your pussy wide was so much. It was heady and the air roiled around you, thick with arousal. It almost made your eyes roll back in your head.

“Joel--“ you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“You just sit back and let me take care of you, honey.” He leaned close and you could feel his breath against your entrance. “You’re all messy down here. Be a good girl for me and let me clean you up, alright?” You moaned and fell back on the bed as his mouth finally made contact where you wanted it the most.

You’d been trembling since his thumbs had opened you up to him. You felt his hot breath first, and then his tongue, pressed firmly against you as he licked you in a stripe up your pussy, ending at your clit. You gasped and clenched the comforter in your fists. He held you firmly in place as you squirmed, hands pressing on your hips and holding you open. Before you could catch your breath he did it again, the flat of his tongue lapping at you from your entrance. His mouth reached your clit again and he teased the tip of his tongue in a circle around it. The sensation sent vibrations through you as you thrust your hips towards his face.

He hummed into you. “You taste so good, honey.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Don’t know how I’ll ever get enough.” He started circling your clit lightly with his tongue and you heard a high-pitched whine erupt from you. He chuckled darkly without moving his mouth away from you.

You felt like you’d had the wind knocked out of you at the first touch of his tongue. You felt exposed, but somehow in a good way. You looked down and watched his head bobbing as he worked you over, your whole body shaking in response.

His eyes were closed and the look on his face was pure bliss.

“Oh my god, Joel, I—” You gasped as he moved down to tease your entrance with his tongue. “Fuck.” He pressed lightly around it in circles before pressing down with just the tip. You held your breath and you swore you could feel him smile as he pressed it inside you. You let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Joel’s tongue pushed all the way inside you and he closed his mouth over your hole and kissed you, just like he’d promised. His mouth felt just as amazing there as it did everywhere else. He sucked lightly and your muscles loosened like they were jelly. You felt waves of pure pleasure crash over you, tingling over your scalp and down your back in time with the thrusts of his tongue. He curved his tongue upwards and hummed and you almost clenched your knees around his head, pure reflex — you would have, if his hands weren’t still pinning you in place. Right where he wanted you.

He moved his hands for the first time and his left came over your hips, his forearm like a bar holding you down. His right moved down and you shook with the knowledge of its destination. His tongue slipped from you slowly, and you almost protested, but before you could, his tongue moved smoothly back up to your clit and his fingers took its place. You felt him touch you in two places — his tongue, lightly curling around your clit before pressing down with delicious pressure, and his finger, rubbing lightly at your entrance, teasing around it in a circle. You heaved in a breath as you forced yourself to let go of the comforter with your right hand. It had almost cramped, and you shook it out, laughing at yourself. Hand now free, you ran your fingers through his hair. He hummed and tilted his head — you took the invitation and clutched at his hair tightly.

Joel’s mouth broke you apart expertly. His tongue played your clit like he knew exactly what you liked. His finger teased at your entrance before pushing in slowly, so slowly you couldn’t help but feel every single millimeter. He curled it upwards and touched a part of you that sent sensations radiating up your torso and down your legs, little lightning strikes that took what remained of your breath away. You could hardly focus on anything but the pleasure that was building steadily all through your body, pooling in your hips and spreading upwards until you were breathing it in.

Joel slid his finger out but quickly replaced it with two. The stretch was delicious. In some distant, still lucid part of your brain, you wondered how big his cock would feel if his fingers felt like this. When he curled the two of them together your back arched off the bed as you moaned, but he held you firmly in place with his forearm across your hips. His mouth didn’t move back even an inch.

You felt like you were slipping downwards into the heat of his mouth and the steady thrusts of his fingers, suddenly teetering on the precipice, ready to fall apart. “Joel, I—” you gasped in a breath. “I’m close, Joel, fuck—” He pressed closer, tongue pressing firmly on your clit, lips closing around it to lightly suck. At the same time his fingers thrust inside you and curled right into the spot that felt like heaven, like he was pressed against the deepest part of you, reaching inside of you and touching every part of you. And you fell over the edge.

It felt like falling. Like you slipped from a great height, a swooping sensation low in your stomach. Your body curved upwards even as you felt heavy, suddenly dizzy as you spun in place. It came over you like lightning, like electricity running from the tip of your head to the bottom of your feet, like it was scouring your veins and leaving nothing but pleasure behind.

You heard yourself breathing heavily like you’d just run a marathon. You felt emptied, empty of everything but pleasure and heat and the feel of Joel’s mouth, open against your clit. He worked you through it, tonguing at you lightly, guiding you back to yourself from the heights he’d expertly ushered you towards only moments before.

You were stunned. You couldn’t move your arms or legs, could only breathe, your chest heaving. Your eyes were wide and staring up at the ceiling. It distantly occurred to you that the feeling was becoming too much. “J—” you tried, and failed. You sucked in a breath and tried again. “Joel, sto—” somehow, he got the message and lifted his face from you. His fingers stilled.

He was breathing heavily too, you could feel it against your thighs. You took a deep breath and lifted your head to look for him.

He was waiting for you. Joel’s eyes met yours and you couldn’t look away. He looked wrecked. His face was red and he was absolutely covered in you. You could see it, glistening on his skin.

He was smiling.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, baby.” His voice was breathless, but still deep. You realized idly that you were still wearing your top and you almost couldn’t believe it. You felt like he’d stripped you bare and turned the whole of you inside out with his mouth. And he was somehow still fully clothed himself. “Can’t believe how good it felt, the way you came apart on my tongue.” He licked his bottom lip and you watched, tracking it. He brought one of his hands up to his face and wiped down his cheeks, thumb on one side and fingers on the other. He was still a mess, after, but he looked down at his hand and then met your eyes again and smirked. He brought it up to his mouth and licked, slowly cleaning up what you’d left behind.

Your mouth fell open, watching him. You felt your arousal building again. Your legs twitched.

When he was finished you looked back up to meet his eyes and found him watching you watch him. His eyes were dark and intent.

“That’s one, baby.”

You blinked, taking in his words. “One?” You felt like you could barely think, still reeling from the power of the orgasm he pulled from you and the sight of him reveling in it afterwards.

“That’s right,” he answered, finally leaning back and sitting on his heels. He winked at you. “You think I could be happy with just one, after seeing the way you just fell apart for me? No,” he chuckled, and rose slowly to his feet. It felt obscene, having him standing over you fully clothed while you laid there, legs splayed open for him, chest heaving. More obscene than anything else you’d done tonight, and he wasn’t even touching you. “One just isn’t enough. I need to see it again. Need to watch. Been thinking about it, imagining it.” He started undoing the buttons of his shirt and you finally gathered the strength to sit up, your hands flying forward to stop him. You met his eyes as you pushed his hands out of the way to take over and undo his buttons yourself. He nodded and you held his gaze as you undid the last button. He shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor behind him. “I need to see it up close, honey.”

Your hands came to rest lightly on his chest and your eyes followed. Joel might call you gorgeous, but looking at him took your breath away. He was strong, built, even if not overly defined. You could see the strength in his body, in his arms, strength that was earned from his job and from being a dad. You wanted him to touch you again. Right as you thought it, like he could see inside your mind, his right hand came up and lifted your chin. You could feel the lingering moisture from being inside you on his fingers.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He smiled at you. “Think you should take off that shirt, baby.” You smiled back.

“Only if you take off these pants.” You slid your hand down to press against the front of his jeans. Joel’s hips stuttered forward at your touch and you grinned. He took a step back, letting his hand fall away toward his own waist band. He nodded at your shirt and you raised your hands, too. You slid your shirt upwards at the same moment he unbuttoned his pants, revealing his cock to your eyes for the first time. It stood hard and proud against his stomach. It was big. You felt your eyes widen at the sight, and you reached a hand out without thinking. He stepped forward to meet it.

You didn’t put your hand around him, but rather ran your fingertips down the length of his cock, from tip to root. He grabbed your wrist and held your hand still, grunting. Your eyes flew back up to meet his own and you suddenly realized you were panting, mouth dropped open.

“Not yet, baby.” Joel took a deep breath. “Will you let me give you another one? I want to watch you come again, gorgeous, want to see it up close this time.” He eased you back onto the bed and slowly crawled over you, until he was hovering above you, hands next to your head. When he paused there you realized he was waiting for your answer. You smiled.

“You’d better.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah? Is that how it is?” You grinned and nodded. He eyed you, eyes dark with desire. “M’gonna wipe that grin off your face, beautiful. I’m gonna make you come so hard you can’t say anything but my name, can only feel me inside you. Nothing else.” You licked your bottom lip, his words holding you in place under his gaze. “Gotta watch it on your face this time.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, almost gentle. “Wanna see it in your eyes. Can you keep ‘em open for me, honey? Be my good girl, let me see you?” You nodded, speechless, and he grinned. “Yeah, of course you can. I knew you’d be so good for me.”

Joel finally brought his mouth down again and this time it wasn’t gentle. His tongue swept inside and tangled with yours, and your hands flew up to tangle in his hair, to hold him there. You could taste yourself on his tongue; you whimpered into his mouth. He licked the sound from you and claimed it as his own.

You were already spinning in circles, dazed by his kiss, when he lifted his right hand and started to tease his fingers down your collarbone. The gentle sensation contrasted amazingly with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and you squirmed. He sank his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away to press hot kisses down your cheek to your neck, where he worried another mark with his teeth.

“You know, darlin’,” he murmured into your neck, voice deep. “I didn’t get a chance to say how much I like, no, love your tits.” He slid his right hand down to cup your right breast and you pushed your chest into his hand. He smiled against your neck. “Jesus, you’re perfect. Perfect pussy, perfect tits, perfect orgasm, perfect everything.” He kissed you again. “Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this. How could I, hmm?” He bit down on your shoulder and you moaned. “’S impossible. Sweet as honey, you know. Sweet, and gorgeous, and sexy, and so fucking smart,” he left a trail of soft kisses down your chest as he praised you and your head was spinning with it. He pressed his forehead to your chest, mouth resting right against your breast as he spoke. “My good girl.” You trembled, chest heaving. Almost broken apart again just by his voice, his words. “So fucking good for me.”

Joel pressed his lips to your breast and then moved his mouth to your nipple. He teased it with his tongue. “Mm, Joel—” you wanted to try to return his words, to tell him how you felt the same way. He was so much, he was everything. “I—” your breath hitched again as he worried your nipple with his teeth. “You—” you couldn’t get a sentence out. Couldn’t put it together to begin with. You sighed.

“I’ve never felt like this before, Joel.” Your voice was breathy but strong. Joel picked his head up to look at you again and you reached out to cup his cheek. “You’re so… Joel. No one has ever made me feel this good. I feel— You’re—” you bit your lip. You felt dangerously close to saying something it was way too early to say, even as you felt yourself falling towards it. You lightened your tone. “You’ll never get rid of me now.” You smiled, but his face was serious.

“Baby, I’d never want to. I want you here,” he pressed his hand into your chest. “Right here. Under me, over me, with me—” he cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I want you right where you are, honey.” You wondered if you were both holding back from saying anything that was too much, too soon for your first date. Your first date, you reminded yourself sternly. You were feeling a lot for this man, sure, but you knew you had time to get where you were headed. You had time. You smiled, and cupped his face in both hands.

“Under you, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What?”

You focused and moved your hands to tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his mouth back to your chest. “Under him” had reminded you, and your voice was breathy as you recited,

"i like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more. i like your body. i like what it does, i like its hows. i like to feel the spine of your body and its bones, and the trembling -firm-smooth ness and which i will again and again and again kiss,"

Your breath hitched on the word “kiss”, interrupting you, as Joel suddenly dropped his forehead to rest against your sternum. He cursed, voice low. “Fuck.” You could see and feel him trembling. You gathered yourself and continued,

"i like kissing this and that of you, i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new..."

You trailed off as Joel cursed again. “Fuck, baby. That’s a poem?” You grinned.

“It is.” You felt yourself breathing a bit hard, like you’d just sprinted towards him. “Did you like it?”

Joel finally lifted his head and you saw that he was wrecked. His pupils were huge, his hair everywhere from tangling between your fingers. He was breathing hard and fast. “Did I like it?” he asked, voice absolutely incredulous. He surged forward to capture your mouth in a searing kiss.

By the time he released you every thought had fled your mind, and all you knew was his mouth on yours. “Baby, I can’t believe how goddamn lucky I am. Shit.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I do like kissing this and that of you,” he repeated your words back to you, voice deep. “I do like the thrill of you, right here.” He pressed a quick kiss to your sternum, right in between your breasts.

You reached out to cup his face in your hands again. “You have me Joel. Now, I believe you promised me something.”

He grinned. “That I did, gorgeous.” He turned his face to kiss both of your palms one after another, before ducking back down to pick up right where he left off. He licked at your left nipple and tweaked the other with his right thumb. You smiled, sinking back into the tide of pleasure he drew over you so easily, so expertly.

As his tongue continued to work, he leaned to the left and slipped his right hand down your chest. His fingertips played over your breast and your stomach and your hip, coming to rest right above where he’d kissed you only moments ago. You twisted both hands in his hair. “Yes, Joel.” You urged him onward, spreading your legs to give him better access. You felt him smile against your chest.

His fingertips moved lower, brushing against your slit gently. “How are we feeling down here, honey? Sensitive?” He pressed his fingertips lightly between your folds, gently touching your clit.

You were a little sensitive, sure, but not in a bad way. You told him so. “Feels good, Joel.”

He hummed. “Feels wet, honey. Is this pussy always like this?” He swiped his finger gently from your clit to your entrance, and you felt the glide of how wet you were.

You shook your head. “’S just for you, Joel.” You breathed it, almost whispered it, and he pressed a kiss to your right breast in response.

“Well, I do like the sound of that.” He used two fingers to press more firmly against your entrance. “I like your body, ‘n what it does.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he repeated the line back to you. He kissed his way back up your torso as he slowly pressed in with his fingers, but stopped with just the tips inside of you, just past your entrance. He pressed his mouth to your neck again. “So responsive, so good. All for me.” He nipped at your jaw as he pressed his fingers just a bit further inside, teasing you. You squirmed, trying to thrust forward on them, but he held them in place.

“How wet do you think we can get you, honey?” He pressed in further, but then withdrew again so just the tips were inside again. You protested, wordlessly. He soothed you with a kiss to your cheek. “I want you to soak my cock. I want you so wet that when I slip inside it’s smooth like silk.” You gasped as his fingers slid inside you again, further this time, but he withdrew them again. He was teasing you and holding you right at the edge, not quite letting you relax into it. It was just on the right side of too much. “So beautiful, baby, the way you want these fingers inside of you. Is this what you need, honey?” You nodded as he slipped the two fingers back inside of you. He stayed there, this time, and curled them upwards. You gasped. “Yeah, you need it. Need these fingers to open you up, hmm? Need to get you ready to take this cock.” He thrust his hips against your leg, and you felt it, warm and heavy and ready for you.

“I need it,” you agreed, voice thin. He withdrew his fingers again and you started to say no, stop, wait, anything, but before you could even shape your mouth around the words he plunged them back into you, deep. So fucking deep, it felt perfect. His fingers filled you again and you imagined how his cock would feel and you moaned.

“That’s right, honey.” You opened your eyes to find him watching you, intent. “You’re taking my fingers so well, so easy. Like every part of me was meant to be inside you.” He kissed you, quick. “My tongue, my fingers. My cock.” He twisted his fingers inside you, starting to thrust, ending each one with a curl, touching that spot that you felt echo through your body like a lightning bolt. “I want to make you feel so good, honey. Want to be inside of you, want to touch you everywhere. Want my mouth on every inch of you.” He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing gently in small circles in time with his thrusts and the combination brought your impending orgasm much closer, suddenly, much higher. Suddenly desperate, you reached up to bring his mouth to yours. His wicked mouth, with these words that were causing every thought to fall right out of your head.

Joel took his cue from you and captured your mouth as his hand worked you higher and higher. You felt seconds away from another precipice and it almost took you by surprise when you launched over it, thrown into an orgasm in the palm of his hand. It washed over you, sinking you beneath its waves, drawing you under into a brief oblivion. You blinked and realized Joel was speaking lowly into your ear, “—at’s it, honey, just beautiful. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous when you come. So perfect. So good for me, honey. So fucking good. Can’t wait to sink my cock inside you, to feel how warm and wet and perfect you are inside. Don’t know how I go so lucky, but I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Gonna be so good to you, sweetheart.”

As you caught your breath, chest heaving, you breathed, “you’re pretty good at this, cowboy.”

He met your eye and raised an eyebrow. “Cowboy, huh? Is that the one”

You shrugged. “Yeah. D’you like it?”

“Like it?” The grin that took over his mouth was slow and beautiful. “Honey, I want you to call me whatever you want.” He cupped your face in his hand, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. “But I don’t just like it. I love it.”

You grinned back at him, turning to nip at his thumb, and he laughed. “Ok, cowboy.” He thrust his hips down and you felt his cock, still hard, as it pushed against your hip. “About time we took care of you, now, yeah?” You kissed his palm and met his eye. He smiled.

“You think I ain’t been enjoying myself? Almost came, watching you fall apart on my fingers, you know.” You smiled back at him. “Been thinking about this, since that time in your office. How good it would feel to have you under me. Been dreaming about this pussy.” You gasped as he shifted his hips to the right and nudged lightly at your slit with his cock.

“M— me, too, Joel,” you sighed. “Your cock felt so good against me in my office, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wanting it.”

“Sweetheart, you can have this cock whenever you want. It’s yours.” He thrust against you again, and the head of his cock brushed up your slit again, not quite nudging inside. You moaned. “Nowhere else it wants to be, except inside you. Shit.” He muttered the last word as the tip of his cock breached your folds, tapping lightly against your clit. Your mouth fell open and you tried to open your legs for him, but he was straddling you, keeping you from giving him any more room. “Shit, honey, you feel that?” He nudged forward, and the head of his cock nudged against your clit again. You keened. “Yeah, you do. Fuck.” He moved his hips lightly back and forth, barely any distance at all, but it felt like more as the hard head of his cock pressed repeatedly against your clit. You were so sensitive, but he was being so careful, so soft. “How is this already so fucking good?” He whispered the question, but you felt it too.

He hovered there for what felt like hours. It was working you up, this slow, soft touch, this barely there connection. His warm cock, not even all the way inside your folds, not even inside you, just nudging you, stoking your fire. “Shit,” you breathed. “Joel, I—” you opened your eyes, not realizing you’d closed them, to find him holding himself up with his face right above yours. Your mouth was hanging open.

“Mmm, honey,” he answered, watching you. “You look gorgeous like this.” He nudged forward again, and you sighed. “Can’t believe how good you feel under me, how pretty you are, how amazing—” he thrust forward again and you both moaned. You were panting. “I think we need to get a condom, baby, before we get carried away.” He winked at you as he said it and you managed a laugh.

“I’m on birth control, Joel.” His hips stuttered forward.

“Shit, you mean—” you nodded and he froze, before pressing down to kiss you deeply. The head of his cock rested against your clit and was squeezed between you as his weight bore down. You opened your mouth and he licked inside, frantic. “Fuck, yes, ok. Fuck. It’s been… well, ages since I've had any sex, darlin’, and even longer since I had it bare.”

You shivered. “Me too, Joel.” He nodded and lifted himself back up.

You bit your lip, looking up at him. He watched, tracing your lips with his thumb, eyes traveling over your face. He opened his mouth to say something (something absolutely devastatingly hot, if recent evidence was any guide), but you didn’t let him say it. You shoved, suddenly, at his chest, and the surprised look on his face made you grin. You followed through and pushed him over, turning him so you landed on top, straddling his hips this time. He froze for a moment, lying on his back, stunned. You were looking down at him, grinning triumphantly, and so you watched his face change from shock to viciously turned on. “You’re so fucking hot, honey, fuck.”

He reached out to grasp your hips and squeezed, pulling you down to sit firmly on top of him. He pulled you down right on his cock, and you threw your head back. “Mmm, Joel,” you murmured as your pussy slid right over his hard cock.

“Yeah? Feel good, baby?” He urged your hips forward and back, sliding you over his length. “You feel amazing on my cock, just like I knew you would. So warm and soft and wet.” He sighed and thrust his hips upwards. “You want to sit on it, honey? Take me inside? Let me open you up? Let me fill you up with this cock? Gonna fit so nice in there, honey, so tight. A perfect fit.” His words were washing over you again, so heady, so dirty.

You didn’t know if you’d have pegged Joel as a dirty talker before this date but fuck, you couldn’t imagine him any other way, now. He was so fucking good at it.

“Yes, Joel,” you breathed. “Please, I wanna sit on it.”

He smiled at you and squeezed your hips as he tugged you down again. You felt his cock slide deeper against you, head nudging at your clit like it had been just a moment before, only now his entire length nestled right inside your folds. It was perfect. “Shh, honey, I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He urged your hips upwards with his hands, and you followed, lifting yourself up. You gasped as you felt the tip of his cock move down through your folds, almost where you wanted it. You looked down and met his eyes again. His mouth was open, watching you, as he shifted your hips forward just a bit. It was just enough to align his cock perfectly as it slid lower and lower until it notched, like a key into a lock, right at your entrance. Your breath caught.

“Look at you,” Joel murmured. He held you up, right over his cock, about to sink down. “So fucking gorgeous.” He loosened his grip suddenly and your hips slid down before you could catch yourself, sliding the tip of his cock just inside of you. You released your breath on a sigh. “Fuck”, the word erupted from him. “Goddamn, honey. You’re pressing on me so tight,” his tongue slid along his lower lip as he loosened his grip again, letting you slip down just a little further. The head of his cock suddenly fully inside of you, so wide, so hot, it made your head spin.

“Joel—”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let me in. Open up for me, baby, just like that. Fuck.” And inch by inch, that’s what you did — your legs were trembling, and his hands held you up and let you slide down, bit by bit, splitting you open, until your pussy came flush with his pelvis. “Shit, you’re taking me so well, honey.” You sat there, chest heaving, feeling every inch of him inside of you, warm and hard and just fucking right. You’d never felt so full in your goddamn life. “Good fucking girl, sitting on this cock. Look so pretty up there. So sexy.” You smiled, and shifted your hips just slightly. You both moaned. “Can’t believe how good your cunt feels, honey. Like it was made for this cock.” You hummed at the idea. You liked it.

You slid your hands forward on Joel’s chest until they were resting under his collarbones, and used the leverage to lift your hips, just a bit. Your mouth fell open at the feeling and your eyes locked with his. “Fuck yeah, baby, take what you want.” He watched as you did just that, lifting yourself up until just the head of his cock was inside you, and then sinking back down to take him fully. You stopped for just a moment, looking at each other, before your breath hitched and you did it again. And again. And again.

Joel groaned, and released the grip of his right hand on your hip to move it to the back of your neck. “C’mere, gorgeous,” he muttered, pulling you down into a searing kiss. You gasped into it, and he took the opportunity to sink his tongue into your mouth again. His left hand urged you to keep up the movement of your hips, drawing his cock in and out of you. Your legs shook and felt like jelly, though, and suddenly you sank against his chest. “Mm, tired, honey?” You laughed, and buried your face in his neck. He rubbed his hands up and down your back. “Why don’t you let me take over from here?”

With no other warning, Joel flipped you, cock sliding out of you as he arranged you underneath him, and then immediately sliding back inside of you as he held your legs open. You gasped. “Shit,” he whispered, “that’s it.” Joel started to roll his hips, thrusting his cock inside of you, and you sank your hands into his hair as you pulled him back into a kiss. He reached down and tilted your hips upwards, and the new angle had his cock hitting something deep inside you that made you whine in response.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it.” He repeated, striking a rhythm that sent you spiraling, moaning his name. “Give me one more. That’s my good girl, yeah? Give me one more.” You shook your head, not sure you could, even though his cock felt so good inside of you, but he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I know you can do it, sweetheart. My good girl can do it, can’t she? So good for me, honey.” His pace was relentless, working you over, and then he reached his right hand down in between you to gently rub at your clit, matching the same rhythm as his thrusts.

You sobbed out your next breath, and he pressed gentle kisses across your cheek.

“That’s right, my gorgeous girl, you can do it. Let me have it. Let me see it again.” He breathed his praises into your neck and the competing sensations of the softness with his mouth and the absolutely devastating way he was fucking you overwhelmed your senses. “C’mon. Do it for me.”

And you did – one more time, one more orgasm ripped through your senses and crashed into you. You sobbed his name, one single, resounding, “Joel,” as you came. He groaned, and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His rhythm picked up, and you knew he was close. “So fucking beautiful when you come, fuck. You feel so fucking perfect. So hot so tight so wet I’m gonna— shit, I’m gonna—” And it was your turn to watch him come, to watch the pleasure wash over him as he emptied inside of you. His face was beautiful as his mouth formed the shape of your name, whispering it reverently as he came. You blinked, watching it, unable to look away.

Joel’s hips stilled, and his forehead came down slowly to rest against your own. You were both breathing heavily, chests touching every time you breathed in, nipples brushing against his chest sending daggers of sensation through you. You were exhausted, and spent, and worn out, and happier than you could remember being in a long time. You could feel him everywhere, feel the joy everywhere, down to your toes.

Joel breathed deeply and then murmured, low and sweet, “honey, you are so fucking amazing.” He kissed your cheek. “Can’t believe I caught your eye, somehow. Can’t believe you’re here with me.”

You smiled, but laughed. “Can’t believe it?” You tilted your hips a bit and you both gasped at the sensation of him moving inside of you, no longer hard but still very much present.

He chuckled. “‘M trying to say sweet things to you, you little troublemaker.” You hummed. “Trying to tell you that’s the best night I’ve ever had, no contest. To tell you I can’t wait to take you on another date, and ten more after that. A hundred.” He kissed you right at the corner of your eye, and then on your nose, which made you laugh again. “To beg you to stay the night, because all I want is to hold you in my arms as long as I can.”

You cleared your throat, overwhelmed. “Those are, um, those are pretty sweet things, Joel.” He pressed his smile into your cheek again. You wanted to reciprocate but he had fucked all of your thoughts right out of your head, so you settled for agreement. “I’m not going anywhere, cowboy. You’ll have to kick me out.” He grinned and pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

…

you (1:17 AM): staying the night 😇

bestie (1:18 AM): !!! (1:18 AM): text me when you wake up or else (1:18 AM): and tell me all about it tomorrow (1:19 AM): and by it I mean 🍆

you (1:19 AM): i will 🙄

...

a/n: see you next Friday 🥰 Poems quoted in this chapter:

From Ross Gay’s Spring section of “Letters from Two Gardens”: https://orionmagazine.org/article/letters-from-two-gardens/ From e. e. cummings: https://allpoetry.com/i-like-my-body-when-it-is-with-your

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel mller fic #tlou fic #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM #smut #check the smut tags at the top

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months

Text

the busted engine

lilac, chapter one

a/n: the plot of this series came to me like fucking lightning, essentially all at once with how quick it fell into place. sometimes it's like that, sometimes magic happens in your brain. I hope you all enjoy this ride as much as I am having writing it. get ready for everything, because I've got twenty chapters planned out and ready, and spoiler, they aren't all just gonna be insanely wholesome small town cuteness... we getting angsty... we getting the drama.... but most of all, we be getting slutty. strap in folks.

summary: “I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, car trouble, meet cute

word count: 2674

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Your vision couldn’t help but linger every time it drifted over your hands gripping the steering wheel. The immense weight the sight of your bare ring finger lifted off your shoulders was so overwhelming that you found yourself fighting tears from blurring the road before you.

The sun was beginning to set as you had been driving all day long, not stopped for even a second to let the gravitas sink in of what you’d done at the crack of dawn.

The fear of Preston stirring from his slumber and finding you in the midst of sneaking out still hadn’t settled within your gut. Your paranoid brain still compelled you to check the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds just in case the sleek sportscar of your former fiancé would appear.

You had finally done what he had drilled into your mind you weren’t capable of. You’d left him for good.

Equipped with only a small backpack of your belongings, the last thing you’d done before sneaking out of the apartment had been to toss the ring he had so insistently forced upon your finger into the trash.

Ripping you out of your cloudy thoughts, your car suddenly began to cough like a mythical monster that was dying.

“Oh shit…” you felt the vehicle begin to slow as ominous smoke started to billow out from under the hood. Mindful of the bushy pine trees framing the road, you guided it to the edge just in time before it gave out.

Stepping out with an exhausted sigh, you promptly cracked the front open to take a look, though what you saw within didn’t soothe your worries as all of the fumes oozing out only made the broken engine look like that much more of a mess.

“Fucking great,” you mumbled heatedly, fiercely slamming the hood shut in an effort to relieve some of your abundant stress. Curving back around, you swung the passenger side open and rummaged for your phone, though when you located it, the only solution it flashed you was a blinking red battery icon before the screen went completely black, “seriously?”

Not knowing if you were about to scream or burst into tears, you chucked it back inside before hurling your spine against the side of the car, leaning against it as you cursed up at the grey sky.

Was this the universe showing its true bias? You’d hoped that was the one thing money couldn’t buy, but perhaps you were wrong, just like he always said you were. Perhaps it would be best if you went back to the city. His reaction towards a stunt like this couldn’t be that bad compared to what you had endured before, could it?

The sound of another vehicle cresting the thicket on the rural road caught your ears and you turned your head to see a navy-blue truck appear.

Your hand shot up to wave it down before you could even ponder the action. Fearing that it was a lost cause by the speed the driver was going at, it caught you by surprise as it suddenly came to a halt a ways in front of you.

“Are you alright, ma'am?” the driver asked as he slammed his door shut behind him. The tall man certainly looked like the type to call the area his home. Dark beard scraggly and hair in unkept waves long enough to tickle the furrow lines decorating his forehead, his wide palm traced the lines of the truck as he made his way towards you.

“I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

Eyeing your busted vehicle a moment, his low timbre then rumbled out once more, “sure,” as he reached into his pocket and fished out his telephone.

“Thank you so much,” seizing it, you swiftly clicked it to life, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are–, oh fuck,” your vision zeroed in on the lack of bars in the uppermost corner, “of course there’s no fucking services out here,” your eyes briefly screwed shut and your jaw clenched in an effort not to scream, “it’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll just walk then!” you tried not the throw it as you handed the phone back to the helpful stranger, “I’m sorry that you had to stop for nothing, but thank you anyways.”

Swinging your door open to yank out your stuff, the stranger’s feet stayed fast, “what direction are you headed?”

“Dunbrook,” you answered as your body folded to reach your tossed telephone.

“You wanna catch a ride?” he unexpectedly offered, causing you to bump your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow–, what?” you blinked back at him through the windshield as your hand shot up to rub the top of your now sore head, “no, I couldn’t… I–, uh, I kinda recognise this area, the town is not too far from here, so I can walk, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but it’ll properly still take you all night. Please, it’s no bother, I’m headed in that direction anyways.”

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you slowly retracted out of the vehicle, “you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, attempting a faint smile in order to soften his gruff and intimidating features.

“Alright,” swinging your backpack on you slammed your busted car shut, “thank you.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you clicked on the seatbelt and slotted your bag between your legs. Fiddling tensely with the straps for a moment, it dawned on you how your sleeves were still rolled all the way up to your elbows from when you had checked under the hood. Pulse instantly picking up and thumping in your ears, you hastily tugged them back down to cover the lavender bruises peaking out.

Had he noticed?

Hearing the door slam to your left, being too caught up in your own mess, it only caused your form to jump in the seat.

Trying to play it off as nothing, you attempted a casual, “I’m Y/n by the way,” though your voice came out much more strangled than you’d intended.

Catching your flickering eye a moment before turning the key, he likewise enlightened, “Pete.”

Your bottom lip didn’t escape the prison of your teeth the entire ride, gnawing subconsciously at it as you purposely stare out at the wild flora you passed in order to not look at the advantageous stranger.

Though after you passed the crooked sign welcoming you back to your small hometown, Pete’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“So, where can I drop you off?”

“The inn,” you turned your head to inform him, “the Lilac Inn, if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he nodded, sucking in a knowing breath as if he didn’t need any more information to figure you out, “so you’re a tourist? One of those nature people who come out here to hike or something?”

“Not exactly,” was all the explanation you offer as you watched the familiar scenery come into view.

Dunbrook. To call it a town was very generous indeed as the whole population could properly fit under the same roof if they really wanted to, and they often did. The rolling fields of wildlife that surrounded the village also divided and broke up the infrastructure of the old settlement, causing most of the homes and businesses to not all the clustered together as you had grown accustomed to seeing after moving to a metropolis as vast as New York.

Every familiar structure rolling by evoked memories long ago buried and forgotten. The corner where you fell learning how to ride a bike. The quaint general store where you once stole a lollipop, walked for all of 48 seconds before turning right back and apologising to the owner with tears in your eyes. But most of all, the large Victorian structure at the bottom of the tiny town by far held the fondest of memories in your heart.

The dust puffed up around the truck as you rolled down the narrow dirt road, the bushy lilac trees that flourished all over the property haven not quite yet come into bloom, yet still forewarned your destination that already peaked over the tops.

“Here it is,” Pete exhaled as the car came to a stop before the vast veranda, “the Lilac Inn.”

Eyes glued to your childhood home, you stepped out of the truck, “thank you,” slamming the door shut, you turned to add awkwardly through the rolled down window, “and also thank you for not turning out to be an axe murderer or something,” a nervous laugh swiftly bubbling out at the notion.

Glancing back at your bumbling form, he simply flashed you a tight-lipped smile and said, “you have a good trip, ma'am.”

“You too–, I mean, you have a good, uhm, rest of your life,” you fumbled as your feet slowly backed up, “it was nice meeting you, Pete.”

“Yeah, you too,” he just managed to reply before you spun your mortified flush away from his stare and scurried up the steps of the porch.

Pushing the creaky, stained glass adorn front door open, you tiptoed inside.

The lighting dim and the atmosphere nothing short of comforting, a smile finally bloomed upon your lips as you let out the breath you’d been holding for who knows how long.

Peeking around the corner into one of the sitting rooms, you only spotted one patron sitting by the small round table next to the crackling fireplace, working away at a puzzle. Either the others had gone to bed already or this fellow was the only one staying here.

“Excuse me,” you gently interrupted from the archway, “would you happen to know where the owner, Harvey, is–”

Though before you managed to get out the remainder of the sentence, a bustle from the kitchen answered your question for you, “every time I forget to whisk long enough and every time I say it’s gonna be different, but this time I mean it!”

Sharing a knowing look with the guest, you chuckle, “never mind…”

“This time I won't just stop when my arm feels like it’s gonna fall off,” even though it was clear he was talking to himself, his usual vibrato still carried, “oh no, no, you just wait and see how light and fluffy you turn out this time, cake!”

Poking your head through the ajar door, you spotted the familiar greying man grumbling into the contents of the bowl he was furiously beating with a whisk.

“Dad?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, your father gasped, whisk jolting upright as he laid his eyes upon you, subsequently splattering some batter across the kitchen, back near the sink, “Y/n?” he exclaimed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, “is that really you? Is my little baby girl really standing in my kitchen or is this a hallucination?”

“Hi,” your head tilted in a soft chuckle.

Starring at you as if you were just a newborn puppy, “oh, come here, munchkin and give your pops a hug!” the moustachioed man’s arms went wide and pulled you in, dripping whisk still in his hand as he blubbered into your hair, “ah, I’ve missed you so much,” squeezing your form in the magical way that only parents could, “I haven’t heard from you in, well I don’t even know how long, that’s how long and if you ask me then that’s too long,” he pulled back, cupping your cheek as he gazed at you, “you don’t write, you don’t call.”

“Not true, I do write,” you corrected him light-heartedly, “and you don’t have a cellphone.”

“Well, there’s the telephone out in reception, why would I need more?” he shrugged, lending you to then slip out of his grip, swiftly boosting your own form to hop onto one of the empty counters, “also, your last letter was 10 months ago.”

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” you gasped, thinking back.

“You can check the date, they’re still in the cookie tin up there,” he gestured to one of the top shelves before reuniting the whisk in his grip with the large bowl on the table.

Only briefly glancing up at the enamel box, you already knew that you didn’t wanna revisit them. However vague the letters were, which they always were, you were still certain that they’d have the power to send you right back there into Preston’s iron fist, even though you’d never even mentioned him once in all the years you’d been with him. They only ever really contained small talk and pleasantries, never about something so personal as to whom you were dating, but you also didn’t share at all as things took a turn for the worse, when you were in so deep that you felt like you couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was out of pride, perhaps it was to shield him from the truth, or maybe even in a way yourself, not admitting to the fiend you had welcomed into your own bed, creating some false reality as a coping mechanism.

Averting your gaze, you then uttered softly, “I’m really sorry dad,” gliding your right thumb over the jagged edge of the counter as you gripped onto it with both fists.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he waved a hand, “you’re young, out there living your life. You shouldn’t have to check in with your father every few seconds. I am aware that you’re 29 after all. Although, you know I wouldn’t be a pose to just a little bit more…” he winked, playfully bumping the side of his hip against your shin before picking up the speed of the whisk once more, “so, did I forget it’s my birthday or did you just miss your old man?” his jovial glance flickered between you and the batter.

“Can I stay here a while? I just need some place to,” lay low, “figure things out, you know?”

Whisk halting, his gaze upon you grew in concern, “of course you can, honey. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay, I just–, uh… needed a change,” not looking him in the eye, you spoke, “I don’t know to where or what I’m gonna do next, but I do know that I don’t wanna go back,” you felt a lump of emotion swell up in your throat, “and I won’t just stay here for free, I’ll pay you rent,” you tried to appease the stubborn sensation of being a nuance to everyone, even to your own kin, “though I don’t really have any money right now, so I’d have to get a job first, but that’s fine, I’ll figure something out–”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your father cut you off, “you can stay here as long as you want, it never stopped being your home even when you moved away. Still keep your room exactly the same, just in case,” he offered you a warm smile, his silver moustache stretching wider, “how about you just give me a hand around here, huh?”

“Alright,” you exhaled, “deal.”

His grin turning more mischievous, he then noted slyly, “you know I’ve always dreamed of you taking over this place one day, running the family business…”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, “not this again…”

“Just think about, you could–”

“Dad, I’m not gonna take over the inn! Running a place like this isn’t what it used to be back when your parents opened it up. You might have always been dead set on taking over it, but I haven’t.”

“I know, I know,” he gracefully backed down again as he always did, “you want adventure, isn’t that what you called it when you went away for college?”

Adventure… it was that kind of philosophy that had sent an innocent young girl into the arms of a devil…

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #frank castle angst #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort

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elenamegan14 · 4 months

Text

Yandere One Piece - Irish/Nordic Fae Folk Myth X F!Reader - Pookah!Luffy

PROLOGUE Pookah - a mischievous yet friendly fae, capable of shapeshifting into any form as they please - malevolent ones included. Legends have told that anyone lucky or unlucky enough to get a ride from Pookah will experience the wildest travel of their lives.

—

You barely have the time to calm yourself when the Pookah circles you around like a wolf waiting for its prey to move. You’ve been here for a few minutes and already you encountered a fairy folk! Fortunately, luck seemed to be on your side - Pookahs are not relatively dangerous unless you treat them with care.

However, Pookah’s personality is proven to be quite a challenge, considering this one has the childish personality of a hyperactive boy, drunk with too many candies. Also, he seems to be the talkative type too, jumping around whenever you tried to side-stepped him.

“A human! Sweet! Haven’t seen a human for a while! I mean, on my side anyway. My brothers saw humans all the time because they got permission for it, but I don’t!” The Pookah grumbled, “They said that I need to practice more on my human transformation, but I think it’s perfect!” He gestured towards himself, forgetting about his longish furry ears and tail.

“I… see. That’s very nice, but I have to go.”

Frustratingly, Luffy seems to follow you around, not giving you a moment of rest. It did not help that he had no sense of personal space, always coming in inches close to you - a new toy that he had never seen.

“By the way, my name is Luffy! What’s yours?”

You are about to instinctively answer but a particular warning from your parents hit you on the head. An iron-clad superstition rules that any good children must follow to survive Grand Line if they happened to stumble upon it.

Never tell them your real name, Y/N. That’s how they control you - words have more power in the fairy world than in the human world.

Frowning, you turned your head away from Luffy, “You don’t need to know.”

“Aw, you’re no fun! What am I supposed to call you then? Seaweed? Meat-girl? Oh! I can call you… ‘Wet Blankie’! Because, you know-”

“Alright, I got it! Call me any way you like but you’ll never find out what my name is!” You boldly asserted, keeping to yourself that you can endure the humiliation of being weirdly dubbed for now.

“Fine!” Luffy stuck his tongue out, “...wet blankie.” he added the last part with a laugh, earning him a scowl.

Hurriedly, you walked at a faster pace, hoping to leave the Pookah to his ministrations

“So, whatcha doing here? Are you going somewhere?” “No, I’m lost! I don’t know where I am, what time is it…” You trailed mournfully, “I even started to lose my way around this place.”

“Oh well, Grand Line can be a maze sometimes. Heck, even my friend, Zoro got lost here plenty of times… and he’s a native!”

A certain name from Luffy’s speech puts you into a standstill horror, “Grand Line? As in… THE Grand Line? I’m here in THAT Grand Line?”

“Dang, no need to say three times. But yeah, you’re in Grand Line! You’ll love it! There are so many fun places here - there are so many interesting things happening around here-”

A shudder of panic courses through your body, “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not supposed to be here! My parents told me to stay away from this place! That’s where the fairy folks live, I’ve heard stories of what they’ll do to humans! I have to get out of here!”

Unbeknownst to you, Luffy studied you a little more carefully than the first time he met you. As if he can sense something beyond your appearance.

“That’s… an interesting way to put it,” Luffy droned, “Somehow, you felt different than other humans who fell here.” “You mean there are other humans besides me here?” “Great!” You raised your hands exasperatedly, “I’m lost in this god-forsaken forest, I can’t find my classmates, and I’m supposed to be home right now! But I’m stuck here! This sucks!” You sobbed

“If you like to… I can give you a ride,” Luffy smiled gently, “I know my way around Grand Line, I can take you to the entrance.” You gasped indignantly at his idiocy, “Are you mad? I can’t trust fairies - that’s the third most important rule that everybody knows!” Luffy’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “Really? Then what’s the second one? I mean, you did tell me the first rule is-”

“-not to reveal my real name to a fairy, I KNOW. You KNOW,” You repeated the rule as if you were schooling a first grader, “The second rule is not to eat and drink anything that the fairies offer.”

“What?!” Luffy jumped in horror, “That’s a terrible rule! You can't do that! Everybody has to eat! Who made that? This is the first time I’ve ever heard it!”

You rolled your eyes in irritation, “Not if you’re a human. They’ll be bound to the fairy world forever if they eat anything in here, and I still want to go home.”

“Not if I can ask the bigwigs to change it!” An optimistic grin burst from Luffy’s face, “I mean, I managed to change a few rules after causing some trouble from time to time again. Which reminds me - I need to hide from my grandpa - he is so pissed off after I destroyed the palace’s garden the other day.”

“You do that while I’m searching for any entrances here,” you murmured, slipping by Luffy.

“Alright, suit yourself!” Luffy shrugged nonchalantly.

Time passed, and you still need to find an entrance. You felt as if the forest was keen on making you even more lost on your path - each shrub seemed to change, pebbles moving out of your marked gaze, not giving you the slightest hope of any exit. What makes matters worse is that you estimated that the sun will set soon. The risk of falling under the clutches of the fairy folk increases with each second you have wasted.

Just as you circled anguishedly around the rock for the fourth time, Luffy popped back again, keeping his irritating grin at your hopeless attempt. “You know, I still can help-”

“Oh, alright!” You snapped, realizing that it’s futile to rely on your own… for now, “But be warned - I have ways to kill you if you break your promise. Got it?”

“Sure thing! I can still take you on if you do! Shishishi!” Luffy innocently chuckled - you felt tempted to smack his head at his indifference.

In just one breath, Luffy transformed himself into a creature that wasn’t a horse but not a mammal either. It was more of like… a rabbit-horse. You were hesitant to approach him but Luffy casually grinned again, lowering his back before.

“Hop on! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you won’t fall!”

“I’ll make sure of it too.” You murmured, climbing onto his back.

Luffy is proof that all legends about Pookah giving their passengers the wildest ride of their lives are true. As you let yourself settle in, Luffy sprints at a breakneck speed - so fast and rough that you must hang onto his neck for your dear life. You didn’t even try to utter a scream, only small whimpers in fear of biting your tongue.

So many thoughts ran through your head. Is it a mistake to trust Luffy? How much time had passed - hopefully you would only miss a day or two. And will you make it out of here? You can almost imagine yourself running through the exit out of Grand Line, ignoring any of Luffy’s farewells and just stomping straight to Stelly and Sarie, giving them the beating of their lifetimes at the dining hall. There was also a huge hope that you would be reunited home again with your parents, maybe you could explain why you had lost your iron earrings and being in the Grand Line in the first place-

Luffy suddenly came to an abrupt stop. Before you can recollect yourself, Luffy turned back into his default form, unaware that he let his occupant fall behind his back.

You quickly rose to your feet, nursing your sore arm, “W-Wha? Why did you stop-?”

Luffy’s eyes grimaced, “Someone’s in our path. Look.” Luffy pointed towards a figure in a near distance.

It was a male fairy - an intimidating one at that. Build impressively in a visage fit for royalty, but contains plenty of rebelliousness on the side. Freckles adorn his face like stars and black, wavy hair frames his fiery visage. Behind his back are a pair of transparent, fiery wings that almost resemble that of a hawk. By mortal standards, he is… magnificent.

Your blood ran cold. You recognize the mark on his wings from the illustrations that your mother once drew. She is an impressive artist, painting one bestiary after another with near accuracy. There was no doubt that right in front of your mortal eyes was the son of the Fairy King himself, Portgas D. Ace.

The very same one who thinks burning mortals who pissed him off can be considered normal in Grand Line.

“Wha- what is he doing here? H-H-He’s not supposed to be here-” You stammered.

“Who’s not here who?” Luffy stared at you in question.

“That fairy! Ace! I heard stories about him - he’s dangerous! We have to go!” You furiously shook your head, already searching for a hiding spot.

Upon looking at the fairy in question, Luffy’s face lightens up, “Oh, yeah! You’re right! That’s my brother! OII! ACE-!”

You felt your heart drop at this revelation. Brother. He just has to be Luffy’s brother - why not? It didn’t help that Ace’s attention was stirred by Luffy’s ruckus. Rushing to Luffy’s side, you grabbed his arm as tightly as possible.

“No!” You pleaded, shaking, “Don’t let him see me! I can’t be seen by a fae folk, especially him!”

“What? Why not? I know Ace very well, he won’t hurt-”

“Luffy, please.”

There was a slight hesitation when Luffy analyzed the fear in your voice. It was a gamble, whether or not Luffy would listen to you. Pouting always works, that’s how you got a leeway from the authorities if you happen to be in any sort of problem - like that time you accidentally broke Mayor Woodlsap’s window for a lighter punishment from him. You put your best one yet, coupled with a doe eye that made you seem helpless and innocent.

A few seconds later, Luffy solemnly nodded, “Okay, I won’t tell him that you’re here. Just hide wherever you can, alright? I’ll come and get you when he’s gone.”

You didn’t think twice and made a run for the nearest bushes and rocks that concealed your entire body. Your head peered out upon the two fairy brothers conversing after Ace made his way to Luffy.

Everything about Ace is breathtaking. His beauty is every bit as true as the stories told by swoony-eyed village women. You also have to remind yourself - thanks to your father’s stern warnings time and time again - that Ace is also well-known for his trickery. He is a fairy that would burn humans into a pile of dust or turn them into trinkets if he fancies.

The fact that Ace is unpredictably harmful.

It felt like forever when you counted until five minutes passed by, trying to make out what Ace was saying to Luffy. He seems to whisper something into Luffy’s ears, but the distance is far too wide for you to listen. So you rely on your eyes instead, observing Luffy’s face slowly form into an enthusiastic expression as Ace conversed excitedly with his brother.

You silently breathed in relief when Luffy waved goodbye to Ace, gently coaxing you out of the hiding spot, “He’s gone, don’t worry.”

“What are you talking about with Ace?” You brushed off the dirt in a hurry and climbed to Luffy’s back once more.

“Noooo….thing?” Luffy innocently answered - you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, fine. How far are we to the edge of the entrance?”

“Won't be long now. We just need to make a BIIIG dash straight there…” Luffy pointed straight at a cluster of trees.

“Alright,” you nodded, “Let’s go.”

You barely notice a sliver of Luffy’s dark grin as he runs with all his might towards the clearing. You ignored all the branches, the leaves, and the force of the wind that blinded you - all you care about is reaching the end - to home.

A bright light blinded you at the end of the path. When Luffy stops and lets you off his back carefully, you slowly adjust your eyes to the new surroundings.

But it wasn't the entrance as you might have hoped.

It was a lakeside.

A lakeside that is also full of various fairy folks - bathing and playing and hanging around one another.

It dawns on you that Ace had persuaded his brother to lead you to a trap.

“Hey, guys!” Luffy shouted, dragging you towards them, “I brought a new friend!”

A green-haired demon-like fae folk sighed exasperatedly, getting out of the water, “Luffy. How many times do we have to tell you not to bring any more weird people-”

That’s when his eyes landed on you.

Everything went quiet. Several eyes gazed upon you in interest for a few seconds.

And then it exploded into elated chatters.

Oh no.

“Luffy…” A blonde nymph-like man with swirly eyebrows eyed you as if his birthday came early, “You didn't tell me that you caught a human girl.”

His statement brought an ominous wonder to the rest of the occupants in the lake.

“Somehow, you know how to lighten our day, Luffy.” A fae with a top hat chuckled, already getting up from his position, and making his way carefully around you.

“Come little human, would you like to join us…?” A pretty maiden with long dark hair and piercing blue gaze, a Huldufolk, she recognized, put down her book, and extended her arm at her.

“Listen up, I want her first.” A large troll with red hair quipped, taking in your fearful form.

“Mind your turn, Eustass-ya,” Another fae, dark and attractive, scanned your visage, “It’s been a while since I have a human to play with. The last one didn’t last long on my table.”

An overwhelming sensation flooded your brain - the fae folks sauntered towards you closely, each with every step you took back. Luffy’s reckless decision had earned you a cold, hard target from every fae folk on your back. In a split second, you did the only thing you could think of.

You ran.

Several cries of “Come back!”, “Play with us!” rang all across the field. But you did not listen. No, not when every mere form of danger is right by your footsteps.

Hurt. Sickened. Betrayed. These are the only things that are in your mind. Oh, how foolish you are - no matter how good his intentions are, Luffy is still a fairy who plays tricks upon humans - and now you are his next victim.

Your mind is made up in determination when Luffy springs before you again, trying to explain something. By now, you have already pulled out the cross from your bag and brandished it upon Luffy who backed away.

“I shouldn’t have trusted you,” You growled dangerously, hovering the cross like a weapon.

“Wait! What’s-your-name, I can explain-!”

“Oh, you have already explained enough! Now begone!”

Luffy drew a wicked grin, “Yeah, I was planning to take you back…” Luffy circled you in a predatory manner, “...but my brother Ace had better plans.”

Luffy effortlessly dodged the cross that you had swiped at him, “GET AWAY FROM ME! I wasted enough time with you around! I’ll go home myself!”

“I like you, you’re interesting. Join my pack.” You gasped - Luffy’s arms started to stretch like rubber, coiling onto your other weaponless arm.

“I refuse!” You hissed, trying to escape from his bond.

“Then I refuse your refusal!” Luffy starts to lose his calmness, and he holds you even tighter, “Please Wet blankie! What’s-your-name! I promise you, they are not going to hurt you-!”

“Go away!” You screeched with all your might, pushing Luffy away and hoping that your cross might make a nick on him. You kept running, you could care less if Luffy begged you to stop, you can't simply look back. Perhaps you assumed that Ace summoned himself right next to Luffy, his eyes boring at your running form. He grabbed Luffy by his shoulder, in a regality fit for a king.

“Don't let her go, Luff,” Ace spoke, honeyed and full of dark intent, “All of us had waited years to have her back. We can’t lose her now.”

“No…” Luffy nodded, “I won’t. We’ll get her.”

There is nothing worse than to run from fairies and get lost again in their forest. Exhausted as you are, there is no willingness from you to yield from their relentless pursuit. You are going home, and that is final.

Then your nose picked up a salt-like scent. The ground is becoming more coarser as well. You finally realize that as you are busy fleeing for your life, you end up on a sandy beach. Not too distant from you is an ominous cave on the seawater, far too eerie to enter.

And yet, as if curiosity overrides your logic, you decided to take a closer look at it instead.

“Come here…” You jumped. There was a faint voice coming from the cave. So you know how to play this game. You firmly planted your foot into the sand, ignoring the voice that keeps persistently trying to coax you inside.

You crossed your arms and looked away.

The cave lets out a guttural growl - something comes out. You kept your fingers clenched onto the cross as a creature, a merman-like being, swims out, and reaches near you. Aside from his long hair, a striking feature of him is his strange triangle-shaped eyebrows that frame his sharp eyes.

“Must you be so stubborn, child? I know what was going on here, and I am here to help.” He drawled.

Basil Hawkins, the Marmennill, is here to lead you.

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece reader fic #yandere one piece #yandere monkey d. Luffy #yandere portgas d. ace #yandere x reader #one piece x reader #fairy folk #yandere one piece fae folk #one piece x y/n #yandere basil hawkins #yandere trafalgar law #yandere imagine #one piece writing #nordic mythology

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lovearthur · 15 days

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ahh hihi!! i love your fics so i just had to request something!!

could i possibly get an arthur x rich! reader? like reader has grown up in luxury but left that for the freedom of the van der linde gang

i hope you have a good day/night!! <3

𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! afab/fem reader . chap4 . big brute x hyperfem dynamic . kissing him cos ur so in love . unsure arthur . he absolutely is head over heels for u .

𔘓 u were a rich girl. the type to wait until marriage, the type to wait until ur parents picked a man for u, the type to been shielded away from anything fun and exciting.

𔘓 ur life was boring. worse than boring. but, only in the past... few years, u have been deceiving ur parents. nothing too big, sorta. a small white lie, even. every night, u would quietly leave ur expensive home to meet a rough cowboy, arthur morgan. u always got so nervous meeting with him, he was just... such a sweetheart with u that u would almost melt into a puddle. only this time, u planned to leave ur luxury life to join the gang. the van der linde gang.

𔘓 u and arthur always spoke about it. but he was never sure if u were kidding or not. he wouldnt want u to leave ur rich life unless u were sure. “there she is, my sweet girl.” he would say, his arms gliding around ur waist in an embrace. ur head pressed against his chest while his head rests above urs. “i missed you so much, arthur. you've been gone for so long-” and then, he began stroking ur hair, trying his best to comfort u.

𔘓 arthur was away for so long because he was often busy with the gang, which was something u understood, of course. “'m sorry, angel. was caught up with the gang, had t'pick up and move.” he mumbles before kissing ur head.

𔘓 u smiled at his words, a small nod of ur head as a reply. “im glad you're doing well. the gang, too.” sometimes, arthur couldn't believe the fact that u were romantically involved with him. an ugly outlaw... has a a pretty, rich girl in love with him? it seemed like a dream. a dream that was so far and now his reality.

𔘓 and soon, u dragged him to one of the many pretty parks that the big city of saint denis had to offer. u both sat down on a bench, talking and laughing... even kissing here and there.

𔘓 “i want to join you. the gang, i want to live like you, live fee.” u say, looking at him. u knew he felt so much at once which u understand. and so he thought for a moment. he couldn't believe that u wanted to leave. ur life was perfect, wasn't it?

𔘓 “... i dont think ye know what yer sayin, doll. i mean- the life i live, it ain't proper like yers.” he says, lightly protesting. oh, arthur would love it if u joined the gang but arthur was the kind to think morally. “i know what im doing, really. i want to be with you, all the time. i know i have your and you have mine.” u say softly, doing ur best to convince him that its okay. he thought once more. “once yer in, there really aint goin' back. y'know that, right?” and u quickly nodded at his words.

𔘓 u were sick of the shielded life ur parents gave u. yes u knew they meant well but u wanted to leave, u wanted to explore but they didn't give u that. "there's creepy folk out there" was always their excuses.

𔘓 after more talking about the plan of u being involved with a... outlaw gang, it was perfect. arthur would be sure u would be welcomed but maybe not with open arms since u were coming from a rich background u like the rest of them. he'd be sure to set whoever straight, if they decide to mess with u.

𔘓 after more hours of talking, giggling and kissing... it was soon time. he lifted u up onto his horse and he hitched on up after. ur chest pressed against his back as u held onto his torso, just in case u fell off because u haven't quite nailed horse riding yet.

𔘓 with a small “ya sure 'bout this?” from arthur and a nod from u, the horse began to trot onward. on the way to leave saint denis.

𔘓 starting a new life of adventure. sorta.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

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yestrday · 1 year

Text

–BLUSH BLUSH ! anemo | hydro | geo

⤷ yan! hybrid! kamisato ayato, childe, xingqiu

summary ! your aquatic hybrids are just as playful as the ebbing tides of the sea, and very much in love with you. the prime residents of your manmade lake just behind your house, you foolishly trust them enough not to question why the water’s surface grows red when they submerge into its depths.

content ! inaccurate demonstrations of their animal’s physical traits; any science majors this is the time to not read any further lest you want a headache; mentions of murder; thoughts of corruption; sadism; mentions of a leash; toxic behavior

notes ! uh wow did not notice theres like only 3 hydro men and yet it took me five business days to write this lmao.. anyways enjoy

AYATO scares you the first time you meet. on that particular day, the sun is bright and makes the man-made lake behind your house glisten ever so beautifully. it’s a sad attempt on your father’s part to appease your loneliness, but you can’t deny how happy you are when you find out about it. riding a rowboat into the center of the lake, you enjoy the wonderful weather as you relax under your parasol, alongside the tea and biscuits aether has prepared for you…

that is, if the tea hadn’t ran out when you weren’t watching. you swear there was tea in the thermostat just awhile ago. as you ponder in confusion about its sudden disappearance, you spy a pair of glowing eyes peeking at you fro just under the ripples of the water. when you try to lean in closer, you scream in shock when the creature’s head pops out from the water and nudges your head. “hello~” the creature, covered in glistening blue scales and sporting a coy grin, greets you even as you jump back. “my, that’s not how you greet a tenant of your lands, do you now?”

AYATO helps balance the rowboat when you almost tip it over from your shock. in fact, he actually helps push the rowboat towards the shore so that he can finally have a proper conversation without you almost falling into the water every now and then. now that you’re on stable ground, you can finally get a good view of him– inhumanly white skin tinged with the undertones of blue, and shiny blue denticles covering his limbs and temples. and when smiles, it’s rather… deadly, if the sharp rows of teeth have anything to say for themselves. he leans casually on a rock, and lets his fin (your anxiety increases when you begin to realize it’s shaped like a shark’s) rest under the sun.

you quickly find out the sawshark hybrid has been living in your lake just a bit after it was finished building. he was busy running away from something, and he wasn’t about to pass up a good lake. it unsettles you when he tells you that he was there from the very moment your father’s driver dropped you off at the mansion and could even recount the day you met aether. his shark’s grin grows larger when you shudder.

when you bring him back to the mansion, everyone is on their guard against AYATO. his eye smile seems cunning, and he touches you a tad too flirtatiously for everyone’s taste. the only one who seems happy about his appearance is thoma, who apparently has a shared history with the man, and they quickly adapt a master-servant relationship. thoma seems to be at his every beck and call as he is at yours, and sometimes you wonder if you’re sharing the title as ‘master of the house’ now.

AYATO seems to have a strange fondness for teasing you. as his long fingers trail your cheek and lift you by the chin, he delights in seeing you all flustered and stammering. he finds you adorable, like one would do a pet. he finds it fascinating how so many hybrids, both mythical and normal ones alike, have become so subservient to you. he understands them though, really– after all, how could one not fall for a human as sweet and genuine as you? you take care of them even though you could easily exploit them, and you have no ulterior motives like the rest of your folk.

AYATO likes to watch the events of the house unfold from the shadows. he’s not one for actually being part of the drama, but if there’s something going on, he’s sure to know about it. in fact, some of them may even be orchestrated by him. but whenever the involved hybrid angrily comes up to confront him, all they are left with is a coy smile and the very damning fact that they have no evidence on him.

if you’re thrusted into the elite life, you can come to AYATO for guidance, but do be wary when doing so, though. in his home country, he was one of the more important elites, so he’s well-aware of the trickeries and betrayal that comes with this sort of lifestyle. he finds it very amusing that your loaf of a father would push a greenhorn like you into such an intricate environment. it’s like he wants to see your downfall. but no worries~! mature and responsible AYATO is there to guide you!

beware though, AYATO is very strict when it comes to your training. after all, you are sort of his master, no? and he can’t have an incompetent buffoon for a master. he’ll make you repeat and repeat his lessons until you’re crying and your hands are sore from raising the teacup the right way. at his side, thoma wants to come forward and soothe you, but all it takes is a knowing glance from ayato to make him stop. tsk tsk… come on, master. you’re the child of a billionaire as well as the beloved human of sooo many hybrids. these trials are for your own good…

or so he says, with a sadistic grin on his face. his blue eyes shimmer as you rub your tears away and continue on with the training. ah… you really are quite the adorable pet. sharks don’t easily bow their heads to anyone, you know? much less filthy, corrupt humans. he doesn’t understand why your hybrids are so eager to lay their head at your feet, when you’re soooo much prettier with a leash around your neck ♡

RELATIONSHIPS: ayato is never seen without thoma by his side, and many of the hybrids actually seem to pity the dog hybrid as he’s the number one victim of ayato’s pranks. the inazuman hybrids are actually quite respectful of him, minus itto who has no sense of wariness and just ropes ayato in whatever game he has in mind. sometimes, he manages to involve aether in running an errand for him, much to the chagrin of the catboy.

AJAX shows up at your house as he’s tagging behind a disgruntled aether. you swear you could mistake him for a fox hybrid had it not been for the pointy horn (er… tusk?) on his head. he just… gives off that aura, like the coy smile on his face and the fluffy ginger hair. from what aether tells you, they met while aether was out for a walk and the man just immediately pounced on him and challenged him to a duel. judging by the injuries, it was a close fight, but aether ultimately came out the victor. you catch aether sending wary glances towards the narwhal, who ignores this in favor of smiling at you.

AJAX immediately greets you, a friendly and curious look on his face as he inspects the master of the hybrid who bested him. "hello there~" he's intimidatingly tall, and a closer look at him lets you see the faint shimmer of the mottled skin from his neck to around the edges of his face. "you wouldn't mind sheltering me for a liiittle bit, won't you? i can't seem to rest until i've bested my comrade over there! that, and–" his eyes glint with a crude expression as the shadowy eyes of your hybrids glare from the corners. "– you've got a pretty interesting cast here."

when AJAX joins your crew, it seems like there's a plus one headache for aether. he's challenging every other hybrid he comes across, but he seems like he's pestering aether the most. he always gets his ass beaten, and though he isn't actually upset about it, he uses this as an excuse for you to comfort him. he comes running to you with fake tears and rushes to hug you— much to aether's chagrin— whining about how your cat was bullying him (not minding the fact that you've been watching them from when AJAX challenged him out of nowhere). hugging you from behind, he fake sobs into your neck, all the while locking you into place with his thick thighs.

AJAX takes good care of you, like how an older brother would. when he's not purposely irritating the other hybrids by being overly clingy with you, he's gentle with his touches. he's also a good help with chores and he'll make you your favorite foods! it's quite obvious that he loves to dote on you, and that's one quality the others can respect. oftentimes, however, you become too adorable for your own good and he can't help but squeeze you in for a hug! that's when the other hybrids swoop in to pry him off you.

he finds the thought of pretty little you sequestered away in some mansion away from the cityscape somewhat… romantic? or more appropriately, appealing. his sick perversion convolutes your pitiful situation when he thinks of how easily he can just take you for himself. those with similar delusions may want to preserve your innocence, but AJAX fantasizes about how far he can corrupt you. did you really plan on staying quiet in this lonely mansion all your life? are you not angry at how easily your father can abandon you? you’re the heir to multimillion corporation, for goodness sake! you deserve more than this!

AJAX is more than willing to bloody his hands for you, should you ask of him. in fact, he already does so without you ever asking for it. he truly cares for you, and he can eliminate any threats to your life and position while laughing as he does so. if you’re a bit more innocent and sheltered, he won’t really let you know about his doings. however, if you’re the one who explicitly ordered the strike… well, AJAX will definitely seek your praise. clinging all over your, soaked in the blood of your enemy, he near grinds his body against you as he begs for your sweet, sweet praise… although it’s also sexy when you ignore his pleas.

RELATIONSHIPS: zhongli and ajax are a strange pair often seen together. while they talk over tea together, there is a stifling atmosphere as they passive-aggressively one-up each other. xiao is wary of him and is only second in beating him up. aether, of course, takes the number one spot, as ajax holds him in high regard than anyone in the house.

a rare trip to a lake– not your lake, but another one– greets you with disaster. the wind blows too hard, and your boat is swayed by the wind until you topple over and crash into the water. your hybrids are on the shore, none of them too adept at swimming, and strain as you might, you find that your underused limbs aren’t strong enough to pull you to shore. but suddenly you feel a pair of arms embrace you, before quickly swimming back up.

your savior drags you to shore, where your hybrids fuss over you while you cough up the water in your lungs. when you turn to meet your savior, you don’t know why you’re surprised when you meet another hybrid– an otter, he introduces himself, if it wasn’t evident enough by the long, fur-covered tail on his back. XINGQIU greets you with a gentlemanly smile, and you find yourself gaping at his pretty face before you suddenly thank him and call him your hero. XINGQIU is pleasantly surprised at this— so pleased, in fact, that he decides to come home with you.

seeing your collection of hybrids, XINGQIU is excited at the thought of meeting so many mythical as well as heroic entities. not only that, but he’s plenty delighted at your personal library. he’s usually engrossed in fiction about heroes and whatnot, and more often than not you’ll see the boy cuddled in the library’s sofa with his nose in a book. if he’s not in the library or playing another prank on chongyun, then he’s at the lake, floating contentedly on the water or reading a book on the riverbanks.

just on the foot of the hill your mansion sits on top, XINGQIU is well-known in the local village for his chivalrous deeds. it’s a quiet rural town, and he delights in its simplicity. when he’s down at the village for the walk, he’ll catch thieves and turn them or pay for the food of a hungry group of children. he’s among the well-liked hybrids of yours, and is a favorite by the local mothers. he’s not so much a favorite back at the mansion though. him being cheeky as well as prone to mischief has made the other members grow wary of him, even his best friend, chongyun. all this he laughs at, and continues to play pranks when other’s aren’t looking.

XINGQIU often shows an eagerness to do what’s good— for humanity, for his friends, and for you. while he’s a bit lazy when it comes to actually helping with the housework, he won’t stand for any sort of injustice that happens to you. whether you are falsely slandered or attacked by paid assassins, XINGQIU makes it his mission to save you. he’s so caught up in the thrill and pleasure of being your hero— the day you first called him that replays in his mind over and over again.

he’s so caught up in playing your hero that XINGQIU willingly blurs the line between chivalry and self-serving. is he really doing this because your opponents are unjustified in attacking a naive and defenseless person like you? or is he doing this because he enjoys you clinging to him and thanking him, singing his praises as you call him your hero over and over again.

XINGQIU loves you, that much is true. he loves you the point of never wanting to let you go, and he truly means to become the chivalrous hero he reads about in his books. but his more… playful (?) side wants to see you tear up a bit more, as you sit dazed on the floor with your attacker’s blood all over you and him at your front as he slices them up in the name of justice.

RELATIONSHIPS: he and chongyun are best buds, but it seems that xingqiu always has the upper hand in their relationship. zhongli sometimes acts as a mentor to the both of them as he trains them in the martial arts. he tags along with aether when he makes grocery runs down the village, as well as shows off his training to him every once in a while to show how much he’s improving.

tags: @probablynoposts

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #genshin impact #yandere #genshin impact x reader #yandere ayato #yandere childe #yandere xingqiu #yester.writes #yester.au — hybrids 🪶#yester.au — hybrids 🐾

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 6 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing sm!! I was wondering if I could request promts 13 and 17 from your promt lost with crosshair or wrecker?

Hello hello!

Thank you so much, gives me the warm and fuzzies knowing folk like my writing 🥰

Part of me wanted to write this for Wrecker but it ended up screaming 'Crosshair'

Better than Nothing

Your little scheme during a night out on shore leave doesn't go according to plan - but that's okay, Crosshair has another plan in mind that's just as fun.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: established relationship, teasing, grinding, thigh riding, pet names, naked reader and clothed Cross, some armour on, praise, dirty talk, implied oral (f!receiving), implied PiV, one use of ‘daddy’, D/s tones, very light choking, light marking, heavy eye contact, light (non-toxic) possessiveness, they be secure in this relationship.

Your whine reverberates around the hotel room, lips pressed into a pout as you watch Crosshair lean back on the couch that’s shoved up against one of the walls. That stupidly handsome smirk tilts his lips, hawkish eyes raking over your body.

You’d taken advantage of a brief stint of shore leave, booking several hotel rooms and heading out into the city. A nearby bar had seemed like a good idea, and all of you had piled into a booth. You’d all chatted and drank for a while, but when glasses were empty, you’d headed up to the bar for another round, only to be approached and hit on.

You might’ve played into it, batted your eyelashes and leaned in towards the stranger. It had lasted two minutes before Crosshair appeared over your shoulder, scaring away your new friend.

Before you could say anything, he’d dragged you outside and back to the hotel, leaving his brothers in the booth. Two years as their civilian handler had taught you a lot, in particular, that Crosshair enjoyed your little games, and the resulting sex was more spectacular than usual.

This time, however, he wasn’t playing into your plan.

Crosshair can see the frustration on your face, and your adorable pout pulls a small chuckle from him as he pats one of his thighs. He knows the little game you sometimes play, and while he’s usually happy to indulge you, he wants you to work for it this time. “It’s my thigh or nothing. I’m not helping you get off.” He states, voice low and slow. If someone had told him two years ago, when you’d first joined them, that he’d end up enamoured with you, he’d have scoffed. And yet now, he couldn’t fathom not having you around.

You weigh your options, eyes flitting down to the thigh plate he’d slid on while your back had been turned. You appreciated the gesture – the friction from his jeans would be unbearable – but you also knew the act wasn’t wholly selfless. He’d always gotten some sort of kick out of seeing you wearing or using his armour.

Playing along, for now, you step closer, fingers finding purchase on his knee. You go to straddle his thigh, but slender fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Clothes off, doll.” Crosshair insists, watching the flick of emotions across your face. Your hand pulls back from his knee, and he watches as you reach for the hem of your dress, shimmying it up and off your body. Kicking off your shoes, your bra follows, discarded on the floor, and then you’re bending down, prying down your panties until they’re off, too.

Holding out a hand expectantly, Crosshair waits for you to give them to him, and when you do, he tucks them into the front pocket of his jeans. You could have them back later.

He pats his thigh again, eyes roving across your naked body, a low rumble of delight starting in his chest as you move, straddling his leg, slowly sinking down until your pussy is pressed against the plastoid.

You shiver at the contact, the coolness of his armour contrasting your body’s heat. One of your hands finds its way to his shoulder to steady yourself, toes barely brushing the carpet. Eyes finding him, your teeth sink into your lower lip as anticipation coils in your belly. As much as you’d pouted earlier, you were excited about this.

Shifting a hand to your hip, Crosshair gently squeezes your body. “Grind.” He commands. “Grind on my thigh, kitten. Go on. Nice and slow.”

You start small, a gentle roll of your hips that brings the faintest twitch of a smile to his lips, the cool plastoid between your thighs beginning to warm up.

“Attagirl.” Crosshair coos, delighted at how easily you follow his instructions. He doesn’t feel much of anything through the thigh plate other than your weight, but that doesn’t matter. The sight of you, hips rolling, your fingers digging into his shoulder, naked and needy, makes his half-hard cock twitch. “There you go. Keep going.” He encourages, his hand on your hip helping guide your movements.

Grinding down, your clit presses against the plastoid, pleasure shooting through you. Your slick provides glide, a whine leaving your lips as you tilt your head back, eyes fluttering shut. The warmth starts to build in your belly. You reach out blindly with your free hand, searching for Crosshair.

“Want me to touch you, pretty girl?” He can read you like a book and knows the soft touches make you feel loved. Your little nod pulls a smirk from him. “Use your words.”

Head tipping forward, you open your eyes to catch his gaze, hips still rolling, pleasure still building. You know the eye contact does it for him. “Please. Want you to touch me. Wanna feel your hands on my tits.” You tell him sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes darken.

“See. That wasn’t so hard.” Crosshair murmurs, bringing his free hand up to brush across your collarbone, fingers dancing over your body. His hand sweeps down, palm finding your breasts, which he grasps gently, squeezing the soft mounds. “So beautiful.” He leans forward, peppering open-mouthed kisses to them, drawing a nipple into his mouth. He sucks, laving his tongue across the stiffened peak. Your moan is delightful, as is your hand on the back of his head, holding him close as you continue grinding on his thigh. Pulling back after a moment, his fingers tweak your nipple, making you gasp.

“Cross...” You moan his name. Your body is on autopilot, desperately chasing the high you know Crosshair can give you. Glancing down as he pulls back, you spot the telltale bulge in his pants. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and your hand that was on his head reaches downward.

You’re stopped mid-motion, wrist caught by slender fingers. You whine a little in frustration, but it turns into a soft sigh as Crosshair brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. “No, kitten. You need to come first.”

You know that’s the rule – it has been since the first time you tumbled into bed together. Most people assume he’s selfish, perhaps even cold and unfeeling. But you’re privy to who he is away from prying eyes, who he truly is, and he’s far from any of those things.

“You want to come, pretty girl?” Crosshair asks, lowering your hand from his mouth to press your palm against his chest, leaving it there, letting you feel the heavy thud of his heart. He knows you’re close already; he can see it in your eyes, the draw of your brow, and the way your chest heaves and your hips roll. “Tell me how much you want it.” He insists, his hand on your hip guiding you just that little bit faster now.

He’s always loved hearing you speak, hearing exactly what you want. He’s never denied you anything, so long as you tell him. “I wanna come. Please. Wanna come all over your thigh – all over your armour. Mark it up. Make a mess.” You babble, hips shifting that bit quicker, the warmth in your belly almost an inferno. “Only you make me feel this way.” You tack on, breath coming in short pants.

Your words are like music to his ears, but there’s one thing left for you to say. Crosshair reaches out, lightly grabbing your throat, bringing your faces close together. “You’re not going to do that again, are you?” He asks, taking in your lust-blown eyes and the fast beat of your pulse under his fingers. You were always so receptive to this. “You’re not going to indulge unsuspecting civi’s and make me mark my territory. You’re going to be a good girl.”

There’s a hint of playfulness in your gaze, and Crosshair loves you even more for it. He knows you’re only playing when you indulge civilians, and he’s happy to play along, to scare them off and then bend you over the nearest surface as funishment. After a year together, he knows you’re not interested in anyone else.

His fingers tighten ever so slightly – not enough to hurt you, never to hurt you. This is all part of the play. “Now, I’ll ask again. Are you going to be good for me?”

Something about having his fingers wrapped around your throat makes you feel secure. While others might be terrified of your super soldier, you feel safe with him. Your hips are still rolling, the little back and forth throwing fuel on the fire, and the edge is so close. You momentarily let his words hang in the air, just to push back a little before you nod. “Won’t indulge unsuspecting civi’s again.” You agree.

“Good girl.” Crosshair praises, satisfied with your answer, before he draws you in for a bruising kiss. As your lips part, he presses his forehead to yours, sharp eyes glancing down to watch you ride his thigh. His armour is shiny with your wetness, and he licks his lips. He can’t wait to taste you. Eyes lifting, he meets your gaze. “Come. You’re allowed to. Come real kriffing pretty for me.”

You grind down a little harder, breath stuttering as you chase release. A few more rocks of your hips, clit brushing against the worn plastoid, and you’re thrown over the edge. Pleasure slams into you, hips stuttering and thighs trembling as you’re swept along for the ride. Keeping your eyes open and locked on his, knowing how much he loves it, your lips part with a cry of his name.

Pride blooms in Crosshair’s chest. You were always gorgeous, but it hits differently when you’re in the throes of pleasure. Soft noises slip from his lips as he watches you ride through the high. “There you go, kitten. So good for me, making a mess on my armour.” He whispers, the hand around your throat sliding up to smooth across your face and through your hair. “Feel good, pretty girl?”

His cock aches, but he ignores it, focusing instead on taking care of you. Your little nod at his question has a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He finds the little trembles still working through your body adorable. “Not done with you yet, though. Wanna taste that pretty little pussy of yours and then pound you into the mattress until you can’t take it anymore. Fill you up so you never forget who you belong to.” He rasps, enjoying the way your breath catches. “Sound good, princess?”

The pleasure starts to recede, and you nod again, not trusting yourself to speak. Heart pounding, you catch your breath, absorbing the hungry look in Crosshair’s eyes. Even now it still astounds you that he loves you, that he hadn’t scoffed when you’d quietly confessed your feelings to him while on watch together in the cockpit of Marauder between missions.

Waiting for you to catch your breath, Crosshair leans in to press a sweet kiss to your lips, hand smoothing down to your hip so he can hold you. “But first, you’re gonna lick my armour clean.” He decides, scooting you back slightly to free his thigh plate. It glistens with your slick, and his cock twitches at the sight. With one hand, he unlatches it before holding it up right in front of your face. “Go on. Clean up the mess you made.”

You lean in, holding his gaze, one hand still on his shoulder while the other rests against his chest, and you slowly drag the flat of your tongue across the smooth planes of the armour. The tang of yourself hits your tongue, along with a faint trace of the cleaner he uses to wipe down his kit after every mission. Your moan echoes in the room.

Crosshair’s cock is throbbing, pressing almost painfully against his pants. He desperately needs to be buried inside you soon. “Good girl.” He whispers, watching as you lap up every drop of your release. Once satisfied that you’ve done an excellent job, he discards the plate to the side, letting it drop to the floor before hauling you entirely into his lap. His lips meet yours for a fierce kiss, and he groans as you grind down on his cock.

Hands on your ass, he squeezes it, pushing himself up to stand. Your legs lock around him, and he carries you over to the bed, laying you down, pinning you beneath him. He grinds down against you, chuckling at your mewl of pleasure. Lips dragging down your throat, Crosshair bites down gently, enjoying the moan that escapes you. Continuing, he presses kisses to your breasts, sucking marks into your skin as he reaches your stomach until he hauls you to the edge of the bed and finally kneels between your thighs. A wicked smirk crosses his lips as he looks up the length of your body. “Legs spread, pretty girl. Daddy isn’t done with you yet.”

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog

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jesterwriting · 7 months

Note

jesterrr!!! my lovey dovey!! congrats on 200 !!

for the event, i was thinking perhaps ace + cowboy casanova would be a good match… heheh 🤠 no specifics in mind; do whatever you’d like!

i hope you have tons of fun with this event! ♥️

pairings: cowboy!ace x gn!reader

word count: 2.4k words

contents: cowboy ace, saloon worker reader, riding under the stars, fluff, flirting, ace is a sweetheart, first kiss, ace has a southern accent and so do you, nicknames used: sugar, sweetheart, darlin’

note: HAAAAIII LIV THANK YOU SO MUCH <33 i had so much fun with this request. i didnt know how badly i needed ace with a southern accent before i started writing this but zoo wee mama…. hes so…. hehe. i hope you enjoy reading this! <33 thank you so much for the request :3

playlist: cowboy casanova - carrie underwood

“He’s a good time Cowboy Casanova, leanin’ up against the record machine.”

done for the 200 followers event!!

The sun was down and the saloon was full. Your feet ached in your boots as you carried another round of drinks to a nearby table, offering a sweet smile and a nod to the folks sitting around it. The night was young, and you were already exhausted with the sudden influx of guests. You didn’t know why your dingy little town was so busy, considering it didn’t have much besides a ranch or two to its name, but it was flooded nonetheless.

Whiskey flowed like water here. You were nothing but a provider to the poor parched souls who wound up on your doorstep.

It had been a year since you started working at Dusty’s Saloon, aptly named for the dust that usually settled itself along the bar, and not once had it ever been so hectic. Of course, there was a fight every so often. You couldn’t mix men and beer without one brewing at least once a week. This, though? This was brand new. You caught sight of a few folks brandishing an emblem you didn’t recognize, either around their necks, on their belt buckle, or most surprisingly, tattooed on their body. Delia, your more privy coworker, would probably know what it meant. You would ask her if you had a second to yourself, but considering how the night was going, you doubted you would be able to.

“And here you are.” You set your final two tankards down on a table, meeting their thankful grins with one of your own, before you settled behind the bar. There was a short lull in your workload. Your boss was busy in the back, likely smoking, and you took the opportunity to take a short breather without one of his sharp reprimands.

If you got time to lean, you got time to clean, he’d say. If you ever heard that bullshit again, you’d show him what for, you swore on it. With a sigh, you started cleaning one of the glasses.

“Now, what’s got a pretty young thing like you lookin’ so down?”

You jumped, nearly dropping the rag you were working with. There, leaning against the counter, stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. His hair was black, deep black. The kind that looked inky under the light, styled short in the front and long in the back. He wore a tasseled vest, the musculature of his arms on display for all to see. You must have been staring because he flexed a little, his biceps bulging. When your eyes found his face, you were stunned by the constellations of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the friendly smile that adorned his lips.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He cocked his head to the side.

It was embarrassing that you were so easy to read. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes and gestured to the spirits behind you. “What’ll you have?”

“Don’t be like that, sugar, I was only sayin’ hi.” The man put his hands up in fake surrender, a playful gleam in his eyes. The spurs of his boots jingled when he readjusted himself against the bar.

“If you were just sayin’ hi, you’d be gone already.” You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. He was cute and he knew it, that was the most dangerous kind of man. Lucky for him, you didn’t mind a little danger.

He ignored you and tipped the brim of his hat. “Name’s Ace.” When he was met with silence and crossed arms, he continued, “Normally, this is where you give me your name.”

“Well, you ain’t gettin’ it.”

Eyes still sparkling, Ace grinned. “Well, fair’s fair. I tried. Have a good night. Come find me if you change your mind, alright, sugar?”

“I won’t,” You called back, knowing it was a lie. He must’ve known too, because he shot you a wink before settling at a far table to sip on his drink. Cocky bastard.

It wasn’t until you started cleaning a glass did you realize a smile had split your face right in two. You felt your face warm. Too easy to read, indeed. Ace probably knew you were putty in his hands from the first hello.

You heard a whisper of your voice from the backroom. Delia was looking at you from the crack in the door, hurriedly gesturing you over. Fond, you rolled your eyes and tucked your rag into your belt loop.

“”What d’ya need, Delia?”

Before you could blink, she pulled you into the room by your lapels. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dim candlelight in the back, and another second to register that your friend was looking at you with a mix of fear and disbelief.

“What do you think you’re doin’ talkin’ to Fire Fist Ace?” Delia whisper-yelled.

You blinked a few times before gently unclenching her fingers from your jacket. “Fire Fist who? Honey, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grabbing the back of your head, she focused your attention on the man who was pestering you at the bar. He had fallen asleep in his chair. A smile wormed its way onto your face at the sight.

“Him! Fire Fist Ace, one of Whitebeard’s boys. You don’t mess around with one of his,” She exclaimed.

“Whitebeard’s boys? I thought they were two towns over.”

“No, dummy, they’re right here in our town stirrin’ up all sorts of nonsense.” Delia turned you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. “Listen to me now, Y/N, you don’t mess around with Fire Fist Ace. Girls, boys, anyone, he’ll go for ‘em all and he’ll use you and leave you out to dry. That’s what I hear.”

“Yeah, well you hear all sorts of stuff. Not all of it’s true.”

You tried not to flinch when Delia gasped so loud, a few heads turned in your direction. “Do not tell me you’re thinkin’ of foolin’ around with that boy.”

With a sheepish grin, you ducked out of her hold and spun back out to the bar. “No promises, Delia.”

Ignoring her scandalized expression, you found yourself waiting tables again. When you found yourself near Ace’s table, you set a cup of fine whiskey at his side. The chilled glass met his skin, waking him with a start.

“Oh, it’s just you, sugar,” He drawled. Ace looked down at the whiskey, smile still in place. “I didn’t order this.”

“The name’s Y/N, and it’s on the house.”

His index finger trailed circles along the rim of the glass as he stared up at you. “Pretty name for a pretty little thing like you. I like it.”

You snickered, “Didn’t ask if you liked it, though I can’t say I’m not flattered”

“Why don’t you come ridin’ with me tonight?” A few of the men at nearby tables snorted and you were reminded of his reputation. Did you really want to get involved with someone who’d only break your heart? To your surprise, the answer felt obvious. You cocked your hip to the side and gave him a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, cowboy.”

The grin that bloomed across his face was boyish and sweet. “Darlin’, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

—

It was late by the time you finished cleaning up. The crowd had left, likely back to Whitebeard’s camp, wherever that was. Delia left an hour ago, but not before giving you a disappointed frown. Fine, she could be disappointed all she wanted. You were ready for the whirlwind romance you’d been denied your whole life. You were young, it was time to take a chance, and if that chance was on a cowboy you met a few hours ago, so be it.

Said cowboy was asleep in his chair with his hat over his eyes. A bit of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth and onto his vest. Now that the bar wasn’t blocking you from his lower half, you noticed his belt buckle sported the same emblem as the other patrons. He was one of Whitebeard’s boys, that was for sure. A bit of trepidation swirled in your chest, easily snuffed out when you remembered how kind he’d been all night. Here's to hoping your gut was right, and Ace was the gentleman you believed him to be.

You gave him a gentle shake. Ace snorted before cracking an eye open and taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, sugar.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” You laughed.

“‘S mornin’ somewhere,'' He slurred, still half-asleep.

Giggling, you poked his cheek. “C’mon, wake up. What about that ride, cowboy?”

That got his attention. Ace perked up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat.’ His hat was skewed, and he adjusted it with one hand, the other wrapping around your shoulders to lead you out the door. “You’re gonna have the time of your life, sugar, I can promise you that.”

You clenched your fists to keep your nerves at bay. This was so unlike you, going off with a stranger in the dead of night. Ace seemed to notice your anxiety and gave you a squeeze, body warm against your own. It was comforting. You sighed, leaning into his embrace as you approached his horse. It had a beautiful brown coat, the same color as his eyes, and black mane, almost matching his own. Once, Delia had joked that all cowboys resembled their horses. It wasn’t until you were staring at Ace under the starlight did you start to believe something so ridiculous.

You doubted he’d consider it a compliment if you compared him to a horse, so you held your tongue.

His horse whinnied when she saw you. Ace placed a comforting hand on the side of her neck, smoothing out her fur. “Hush, girl. Don’t you worry now, they’re sweet like you.”

You slid next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. “You never know, I could be gettin’ you alone just to kill you.”

Ace snickered, “Wouldn’t be the first, wouldn’t be the last, but you would be the prettiest.”

“Oh, quiet now.” A flush heated your cheeks as you lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

He seemed proud of himself for flustering you. With a practiced ease, Ace hefted himself into the saddle and scooted up so there was room for you. Patting the seat, he gave you a grin. “Need a hand, sugar?”

You had never ridden a horse before, you weren’t above admitting it. Sighing, you took his hand and tried not to think about how easily he lifted you with one arm, even with your foot in the stirrup. Once you were in the saddle, you wrapped your arms around Ace’s waist to steady yourself. He gave your thigh a final pat, then let out a loud yip, and the horse was off.

Without permission, a laugh bubbled out of your throat. You squeezed Ace, anxiety mixing with pure, unadulterated joy as the wind whipped your hair. Stars glittered overhead, the full moon casting the landscape in a silver glow. Ace was warm, and the night air was cold. Unable to stand the chill, you buried your face between his shoulder blades, ignoring the rumble of a chuckle that shook his entire body.

“Havin’ fun back there?” A bit of genuine concern leaked into his tone. “Need me to slow down?”

You wondered if he could feel your body shaking. Not from fear, but from excitement.

“Faster!” You cried.

Ace whooped, “Yeehaw!”

Laughing at the cliche, you felt your stomach drop as his horse picked up speed, dashing out of town and into the plains. The sound of hooves on hard ground echoed in your head. Adrenaline sang in your veins, making you dizzy and desperate for more. The two of you rode like this for a while before the horse slowed to a canter with an easy pull of her reins and a click of Ace’s tongue.

“Where are we?”

Ace looked back, excitement evident on his face. “Took you somewhere special to look at the stars.”

At his words, you looked up to see the entire night sky open in front of you. Countless clusters of stars formed webs, intertwining with one another in a sea of purple and blue. There were no clouds to block the view, it was a perfectly clear night, save for a few wisps here and there. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight.

Ace slid off the saddle and offered you his hand. “Hey. No peekin’”

“How can I not? It’s beautiful.”

Unlike before when he only pulled you by your arm into the saddle, Ace’s hands gently gripped you by the waist and lifted you with an ease you weren’t expecting. You were no waif, but he was deceptively strong. He looked down at you with soft eyes, smoothing out a few strands of wind blown hair with his palm.

“You’re beautiful, sugar.”

“Why do you keep calling me that if you know my name?”

His eyes flickered to your lips. “‘Cause you’re sweet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been mouthy all damn night.”

“A man can dream.”

With that, he kissed you, lips pressed softly against yours. He tasted like whiskey and he smelled like a hearth. Cozy and warm, like home. To your surprise, the kiss was chaste, over almost as soon as it began. Ace’s cheeks were bright red when he looked down at you.

“I heard you were a real casanova, surely you can kiss better than that,” You teased the already flustered man.

Ace’s blush darkened. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Around.”

He snickered at your non-answer. “Every cowboy’s got a reputation for rollin’ around in the hay. Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ve been bein’ honest with me all night, but I suppose it’s better late than never.”

Leaning down until his breath ghosted across your cheek, he whispered, “That was my first kiss.”

You smirked and pulled him closer until the two of you were nose to nose. “I think now’s as good a time as ever to get some practice in.”

“And the next night, and the next night,” Ace asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And the night after that,” You said, bringing him in for a kiss.

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #.jesterwrites

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Apothecary - Chapter Five

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

she and joel try to figure out their new normal. will her upside-down world be too much for him to handle?

warnings | 18+ smut-adjacent, significant angst, mentions of pregnancy (not what you think), feelings

word count (since someone asked lmao): 5.8K

a/n | we are entering turbulent waters, my darlings. but remember, i promised you a happy ending, and a happy ending you shall get. just, not yet. as always, i love to hear from you about what you think of the chapter, drop me a message and let's chat <3

.........................................

“Dead man walking at three o’clock, boys.” “Watch out, whatever she’s got working on Miller might rub off on you if you get too close to him.”

“Just a matter of time now, don’t you think?” “Better him than me. I like coming home alive, thank you very much. Miller can have her.”

The folks talking at the stables are lucky that Joel couldn’t give less of a fuck about what they have to say. He’s got better things to focus on. As the summer has slipped into those long languid days before the first snaps of fall, it’s become common knowledge around town that Joel Miller is the witch’s man. And he couldn’t be more pleased about it.

The men place wagers on when he’ll wind up dead, and the women, well, they’ve got a different look in their eyes when he comes around now that he’s so clearly caught the attention of the resident witch. But it’s all just noise to Joel, who is completely and unequivocally wrapped up in his woman.

Tommy has cut down his patrol shifts, and Joel knows it’s because of his brother’s own little superstitious streak, though he’d never admit it to him. But Joel doesn’t mind spending more time working the stables, not when she comes around at midday in between her rounds, sharing her lunch with him, and a little sweetness, before bounding off to wherever she’s needed next.

He’s learning more about her everyday. What’s true, and what’s baseless rumor. Just the other day, he had witnessed for himself her strange communication with animals when she had calmed a bolting horse with a light palm and a few murmured words, the mare tilting its head at her like it was listening to what she had to say. When she had turned back around to Joel after leading the horse into the stables, she offered him a smile and a shrug. Another truth.

They’ve made a little routine around each other, something he didn’t think he’d ever get again in this world, and he fucking adores it. Today is no different, when the sun starts to drip low in the sky and he’s finally finished shoeing a particularly skittish horse, he heads off from the stables toward her shop to pick up his girls. That’s the other thing, she looks out for Ellie, and Ellie thinks she’s “the fucking coolest.” Joel can’t help but feel like he won the damn lottery every time he steps into her shop and finds them laughing and talking easily in the back.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got a good one for you today.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“What do you call witches who live together?”

“I don’t know, tell me.”

“Broom-mates!”

“Kid, that one is bad, even for you.” Both she and Ellie whip around from where they had been chatting in the backroom of her shop when they hear his grumbled words. Ellie scoffs.

“What? It’s topical.” She snorts at Ellie’s response, nudging her as she wipes her hands off on a rag.

“It was ok. A little culturally insensitive though. That whole riding around on brooms thing is a total myth.” Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at that, and she laughs at the girl’s expression, stepping around her to pad over to Joel.

“Hey there, handsome. Quitting time?” It still catches him off guard sometimes, how easily she slips her arms over his shoulders, leaning in for a quick kiss, calling him handsome, though he can still hear Ellie making gagging noises over the ringing in his ears.

“Mmhmm, yep, yes ma’am. You ready to go?” She smiles, getting ready to answer him and being abruptly cut off by a sharp mroowww. He’s already expecting it, little paws clawing up his pants leg, a less welcomed development that has recently emerged as Stevie seems to take every chance she gets to make Joel her human scratching post. With a laugh, she scoops the mewling cat up in her arms, holding her out to Joel, though he swerves away slightly.

“Oh c’mon, Joel. Just give her a little pet. She’s trying to show you that she likes you.” He begrudgingly gives Stevie two curt pats on her head to which she lets out an indignant mrrp in response, yellow eyes squinting at him. No matter how many times she’s tried to convince him that Stevie likes him, Joel is still not sure what the cat thinks of him, or more importantly, what he thinks of her. There’s been a few times now when he has stumbled down stairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and he’s found the cat, frozen midstep, going god knows where out the backdoor. How Stevie got the door open in the first place is beyond him…

Ellie huffs from behind them, shuffling over and taking Stevie out of her arms, the feline immediately nuzzling up to her and purring like the most content engine ever.

“You can’t just bop her on the head like that, old man. Stevie likes a gentle touch.” She giggles at Ellie’s admonishment, her hand that had been resting on his chest coming up to scratch lightly at his scruff as he grumbles.

“Jesus christ, are y’all ready to go or not?”

They certainly make an odd little team walking down the main drag of Jackson, his arm slung over her shoulders, Ellie walking a bit ahead of them carrying Stevie like a baby. There are stares, of course, there always are, and even a loose whisper here and there as they make their way home. Or, he supposes, to his and Ellie’s home, though she spends most nights with him these days.

Pieces of her life have become permanent fixtures at the Miller residence, her “sensitive plants,” as she had called them, lining the windowsills downstairs, a few thick books of hers stacked on his nightstand, her overalls hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it actually makes him quite sentimental, these tangible reminders that he gets to call her his. Though there are always a few nights a week that she slips off by herself, going back to the shop or her own place after dinner. He tries not to think too hard about those times, and what she might be up to. After all, there are still a whole lot of things about her that he can’t quite believe, his mind playing catch-up with the strangeness of it all. But he reckons it’s worth it to get to have her like he does right now, an easy hand on her hip as they get dinner ready, Ellie rambling at the kitchen table about something Dina said earlier at school.

And while it feels so good, this routine they’ve slipped into, there’s always a twinge of guilt laced through when his mind wanders to the world just outside of Jackson’s gates, to his past, and the harsh dissonance between this present sweetness and that old pain. He had once asked Tommy about it, how he lives in this strange sliver of normal after the life they’ve known, and his brother had just shrugged and said that maybe it was exactly because of their past that they deserve whatever respite they can find now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice snaps him out of his mind, eyes focusing back on her sitting across from him at the table, dinner long finished and Ellie off wreaking havoc with the other Jackson teens. Don’t tell anyone, but Joel Miller has traded in his usual nightcap at the Tipsy Bison for a warm cup of whatever she steeps in a kettle on the stove. He doesn’t mind the taste, and it saves him a headache in the morning, and right now, the warmth from his mug anchors him just enough to ask her what’s been on his mind.

“Y’know, you never did tell me how you knew– about Sarah.” Her eyes soften around the edges, smile drooping just slightly.

“Well, I told you that I see the world in threads. The thread between you and Sarah– your daughter– it’s a particularly strong one.”

“Even though– even though she’s gone?”

“She isn’t gone, Joel, not really. I can feel her all around you.” His head spins with her words, tightness settling in his chest, and he doesn’t realize he had been clenching his fist until she reaches out for him, unfurling his fingers in her hand.

“Can you– could you– could you talk to her?” Her brows pinch, lips pressing into a thin frown at his question.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t. People– like me– we all have different talents. I had an aunt who’d have long conversations with her husband who had passed on– but that’s never been something I’m able to do.” He swallows hard, nodding, feeling a bit foolish for asking the question in the first place.

“But you said you can– feel her?” That brightens back her smile, and she squeezes his hand in hers.

“We’re all just energy. Even when we die, that can never be destroyed. So yes, I can feel her with you, and how much she loved– loves you.” It becomes too much for him all at once, the hot prick of tears behind his eyes spurring him to tug his hand out of hers. She says his name like a question, but he’s already stumbling out of his chair and toward the front door.

“Wait, Joel– just– where are you going?” It breaks his heart, the concern laced through her words, and when he turns to give her a response, his hand still on the doorknob, he can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry– I can’t– it’s just– I can’t– it’s too much– it’s all too much.” Perfect silence, she offers no reply to his words, and he doesn’t wait around to hear one, slipping out the front door and stumbling into the quickening night.

…

She fucked up, it becoming clear to her with the slam of his front door behind him. All she wanted was for him to have the truth, hoping that it could be a comfort to him. But obviously she had been mistaken in thinking that. He said that it was too much, but the implication of those words was apparent, that she’s too much. She knows better than to follow him, having figured enough out about Joel Miller to understand that any prodding will be unwelcomed, so she stands, feeling a bit helpless, in the middle of his living room. But then she starts looking around, seeing her plants everywhere, a few of her bracelets on the coffee table along with one of her books, knowing there’s more where that came from up in his bedroom, and she starts to think that she had come on too strong, that she was too much.

He was spooked by what she said, there were no two ways about it. She’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere. She just hated that it had been in his eyes. Suddenly, she wants, needs, to get out of his house, and away from the deafening silence of being alone. She grabs her satchel, hastily shoving whatever odds and ends of herself strewn around his house that she can into her bag. She’s with it enough to lock the front door and slip out the back, figuring that wherever he went, he won’t be back for a while. The hot slip of tears comes before she can stop it, hurrying away from Joel’s house and toward her shop, intent on doing the one thing she knows will calm her mind.

…

He fucked up. He knew it the second he stepped out on his porch, and had even thought about turning back around right then, going back inside, trying to talk it out with her. But there was nothing to talk out, she’d done nothing wrong, he knew that. It had been such a jarring conversation for him, straddling the line between disbelief and something that touched a little too close to bone for his taste, and unable to stay up on the tightrope with her, he bolted.

The Tipsy Bison is quieter tonight, it being the middle of the week, but that’s a blessing to him, not wanting to run into anyone he knows while he tries to fuzz out his thoughts with booze. It plays over and over again in his mind.

I can feel her all around you.

Joel reckons that more than anything else, the feeling that had propelled him out of his house and away from her had been anger, that she can feel something he would give anything to feel himself. Very early on, he’d talk to Sarah, every night, asking her for signs. It had been in a fit of frustration when no signs ever came that he had pointed a gun at his temple and missed. So for her to so easily say that, to bridge that gap he had been clawing at for twenty years, it had set loose a dark mix of emotions he had been trying to stifle for a long time. And he believes her too, no matter how fantastical it seems. He knows that whatever she does choose to tell him, it’s always the truth, which only makes it sting worse.

He feels sick to his stomach after his first tumbler of whiskey, a gnawing pain he can’t shake, his mind replaying the glance he got of her face before he left, a crumpled look, something bordering on fear. And he suddenly has no interest in staying at the bar any longer, pushing away his glass and walking out onto the empty streets of Jackson, having stayed in there long enough for night to lay down heavy and cool over the town.

A pause, trying to get his bearings, to get out of his head, his eyes wander over the storefronts outside the Tipsy Bison, though it’s a figure emerging from between the shops that catches his attention.

“What’re you doing out here, trouble?”

meooowww

He shuffles across the street over to Stevie, meeting her in the alleyway she just sauntered out of. Bending at the waist, he offers out his palm, Stevie rubbing her cheek up against his fingers with a satisfied purr.

“Think I messed up a little.” Stevie lets out a mrow at that, and if she hadn’t been nuzzling at his palm, he would’ve sworn that she nodded her head at his words. Joel sighs, standing back upright, Stevie’s yellow eyes looking up at him, unblinking.

“Better go talk to her, huh?” This time, there’s no other explanation for the little bob of the cat’s head, and Joel has to let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Whatever this new normal is, ain’t nothing normal about it.

“Alright, trouble, you coming?” He gets no response, because, hello, it’s a cat. But when he starts walking, Stevie falls into step next to him.

The whole walk home, he’s so preoccupied with what he wants to say to her that he’s completely caught off guard when he goes to open the front door and finds it locked. Not a light is on inside, either, and he can’t help the frustration rising in his chest, Stevie starting to claw at his pants not helping one bit. She stops just as soon as she started, giving him an expectant look before turning around and padding down his porch steps. At his wit’s end, all Joel can think to do is follow the cat.

…

This is when she feels closest to her mother. Sweat pricking along her hairline, the sleeves of an old work shirt hiked up to her armpits, the backdoor to the shop cracked open to air out the fumes, and a bandana tied over the bridge of her nose, covering the lower half of her face as she works.

She’s had to make changes to the process in this new world. Where they used to buy lye from the local craft store, she now has to make it herself, leaching wood ash in barrels in the alley outside the shop. Where they used to use exotic oils like neem and jojoba, she now makes due with beeswax and sunflower seed oil. But she still stirs honey, mint, and lavender into the mix, the scent a pure dose of home for her.

Her eyes burn as she stirs, the sharp sting of vapors from the lye a welcome distraction from all the thoughts still winding around her mind. She’s done this a thousand times, moving with measured precision, the mixture swirling thick and black as she carefully ladles it into the wooden mold. They used to make huge batches every spring, rectangular molds the size of garden beds, and once the soap was set and cured, they’d slice it up into small blocks, enough for the year and then some. Now she only makes a little at a time, when she wishes more than anything she still had her mother with her, telling her what the next right step is.

She wipes away the cool drip of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, turning the stove off with a jerk of her chin. Some things never get old. But before she can take the now empty stock pot over to the sink, Stevie comes slinking in, nuzzling up against her ankles. She tugs her bandana down from her nose, letting it hang around her neck as she looks down at her girl.

“What’d you get into tonight, little miss?”

“She talked some sense into me.” Her head whips up at the sound of his voice, seeing Joel leaning against the backdoor frame. She can’t help but feel a bit exposed in her ratty attire, and she wonders how much he had seen. She’s never had anyone around when she’s done this before, and it feels like a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to extend to him.

She sniffs, squaring her shoulders and trying to seem unphased by his presence, willing her voice to come out steady.

“Oh?” She feels like she needs to swallow around something thick in her throat, words getting stuck somewhere in her chest.

“I’m sorry– that I just bolted. I wasn’t expecting that– what you said– and I reacted without much thought.” Her fingers itch with want, to reach for him, to thumb away the crease between his brows. But she resists it, staying where she is, her hands bunching into the fabric of her loose shirt instead.

“You don’t have to apologize, Joel. I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. You were right– it was too much, and I should have been able to see that. I’m sorry that I pressed too hard.” He kicks up off the doorframe, stepping into the shop, and immediately lets out a few harsh coughs, thumping his fist against his chest as he squints at her.

“Is there– a reason– my throat feels like– it’s on fire?” She curses low, quickly guiding him by the shoulders back out of the shop and into the alley.

“Fuck! I’m sorry! It’s the fumes from the lye. I guess I’m just used to it by now.” She rubs quick circles across his back as he continues to let out wheezy coughs, looking at her with wide eyes when he finally catches his breath.

“What the hell are you doing with lye, woman?” The harsh tone of his words makes her jerk back from him, stepping just out of reach as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s for soap. That’s what I’m doing, making fucking soap. Not whatever all those people you talked to put into your head.” His face blanches in the moonlight, jaw slack at her words.

“That’s not– I didn’t mean it like that.” She scoffs, anger suddenly feeling like a really good idea as she takes another step back when he goes to reach for her.

“Oh really? Are you sure about that, Joel? Are you sure that this isn’t too much for you? That I’m not too much for you?” She regrets the words the instant they leave her mouth, her mounting insecurity a thick sludge in her throat as silence settles between them.

“This ain’t about the soap, is it?” She has to laugh at his timid question, throwing her hands out in frustration.

“Yes– no– fuck, I don’t know. I just– the way you looked at me? When I told you about Sarah? I’ve seen that look before, and I know it well– it usually means that it’s time for me to go.”

“Go? What do you mean go? I don’t want you to go anywhere, goddamnit!” The sharp raise of his voice catches her by surprise, his frustration clear in the long drag of his palm down his face, the sigh he lets out as he squints at her in the dim light.

“Then I need you to tell me right now if what I do, what I am, is going to be a problem for you. Because if it is, I can’t– can’t do this.” She can’t fight it down anymore, the hiccup in her voice, the warble that threatens tears, and Joel’s features soften at the little sniff she lets out.

“You know it’s not a problem for me, you know that. But– I ain’t gonna lie to you, this ain’t easy, darlin. All these things I sure as shit didn’t believe in until I met you. Sometimes I feel like my world’s been turned upside down trying to wrap my head around it all.” She doesn’t step away this time, when he gets closer to her, tentative hand reaching out and circling around her wrist before sliding down to tangle his fingers with hers.

“It’s a lot. But it’s not too much. I promise you.” Words she’s never heard before, and now she really can’t stop the tears muddling up her vision and slipping down her cheeks. He takes another step closer, his other hand coming up to brush away stray salt with the backs of his knuckles. And it finally clicks for her in that moment just how much she wants him to mean it, how much she wants him to stay, and it terrifies her.

“I really am sorry, Joel– about what I said earlier. I should’ve been more careful.” He holds his palm steady against her cheek, dark eyes swimming in shadows.

“I was the one that asked, darlin. I just– I’m gonna need a little more time with– with that.” She sighs, having already reached a conclusion that she doesn’t like one bit, though she knows it’s for the best. She isn’t going to let this be like any of the times before.

“I think that maybe we should take things– slower.” She can tell that Joel doesn’t like that, his brow scrunching up, thumb stilling where it had been stroking along the arc of her cheek.

“S-slower?” She nods, squeezing his hand that’s still tangled up in hers.

“We rushed into this, didn’t we? I mean– it’s only been a few weeks since we really started seeing each other, and I’m already practically living with you.” His face really falls at that, a deep frown settling around his lips.

“You don’t wanna live with me, is that it?” She’d laugh if he wasn’t looking so pitiful about it, instead offering him her best smile as she brings her other hand up to brush his hair out of his face.

“That isn’t what this is about, Joel. I just think it might be good for us– for you– if you’re not in my– upside-down world– all the time, at least at first. Like getting acclimated to a new altitude, you gotta take it slow.” She knows it’s a weak explanation the minute the words leave her mouth, but she also knows she’s right. Joel, on the other hand, still has a displeased scrunch to his face, like someone just told him a tasteless joke.

“Uh, well, ok– if that’s what you want then– I mean, I guess we can– we can do that– we can take things– slow.” He keeps clearing his throat between words, stop-starting himself like he’s trying to convince himself he means it as he’s saying it. And when he finally gets it all out, with a firm little nod of his head, she can’t help but reward him with a quick kiss.

“Thank you, baby. I really think this is important– I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.” He nods again, his hand that had been cupping her cheek trailing down her shoulder, her arm, until he’s holding both her hands in his.

“So, what does this look like– us taking it slow?”

“We can figure it out as we go. But for right now, I think we can say goodnight, and I’ll go back to my place, and you’ll go back to yours.”

“Can I walk you home?” Her heart tugs at that, his question so earnestly asked, only making it harder for her to respond with a sigh.

“I kinda have to clean up the shop still. I can’t really leave that stuff out overnight, y’know? A-and I obviously don’t want you messing with it, so–”

“No, I-I get it, that’s alright. Um, so I guess, goodnight then.” She’s never seen him so flustered, having to stifle a giggle when he realizes he’s still holding her hands and lets go with a huff. He seems to think on it for a beat, quickly ducking in and pressing the most precious kiss to her cheek, muttering a quiet “goodnight, darlin” as he turns to head home, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and taking a few jerky looks over his shoulder at her before he rounds the corner of the alley.

She turns back to the shop with a sigh, Stevie sitting in the back doorway, head tilted at her.

“What? It’s for the best, you’ll see.”

…

For the record, Joel doesn’t like this taking it slow business, at all. He’s not even sure how she got him to agree to it, he had been so turned around that night, and she had been giving him those eyes… But no, he doesn’t like it, not one bit.

To start with, he doesn’t like that she no longer comes around to the stables at mid-day, no quick kisses, no easy smiles. Nothing. And he doesn’t like that she no longer comes over for dinner every night, and not just because she’s a better cook than him. He doesn’t like that his walk home from the stables no longer includes a regular stop by her shop. And he doesn’t like that he has to hear from Ellie what his woman was up to that day. He hates that they go on dates now, like normal fucking people, scheduling time to be together instead of just throwing out the clock and moving like magnets. But perhaps more than any of his other qualms, the thing he hates the most is that he doesn’t get her in his bed every night.

When he agreed to take things slow, he didn’t know it meant this slow. He didn’t know it meant goodnight kisses and holding hands but that’s it slow. Afterall, he’s only a man, and after getting to have her the way that he did, it feels damn near impossible not to crave that like a drug.

He’ll admit that she was right, taking it down a notch has made it easier to wrap his head around the things that she shares with him. But it’s been three weeks of this, and he’d turn himself upside-down, inside-out, and every which way around if it meant speeding things back the fuck up.

Laying in bed, his mind swirls with images of her. Is it gross that he hasn’t washed his sheets since the last time she stayed over? He doesn’t really care, not when there’s still a faint trace of incense and lavender on the pillow she slept on.

His mind wanders to the last time he had her here. It was early in the morning, before either of them had to go to work, and she had lazily slung a bare thigh over his waist, perfect in the hazy morning light as she straddled him. It had been slow and sweet, taking time that they didn’t really have. She was so warm and soft for him, all gentle sighs, the mesmerizing curve of her hips and the sway of her breasts, an image that works him up now in the cool darkness of his empty bed.

It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same. But it’ll have to do for now. He holds her steady in his mind, a dream, an idol, a fucking goddess, and he palms himself through his boxers, a damp spot already forming from just thinking about her. He kicks his sheets off, shrugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out, pre-come smearing over his stomach where it now rests. Part of him can see how pathetic this looks, rubbing one out every night to the dream of his woman, but he wouldn’t have to if they weren’t taking things so goddamn slow. Now, a normal person would think that maybe he should just talk to her about picking up the pace. But he’s too stubborn for that, and he knows it, and it drives him crazy that he equates having that conversation with defeat. Joel tells himself that he can do this, he can give her what she wants, respect her boundaries, no matter how stupid he thinks they are.

He doesn’t take his time with himself. This is purely about release for him, and he knows exactly how to get himself there, spitting harshly into his hand and wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, scrunching his eyes shut as he starts to work himself over.

She’s all he thinks about in these moments, how her hands are so much different than his, still calloused from the work she does, but softer, and smaller. He thinks about the plush of her lips, and how they fall open when she comes, the little crease between her brow her other tell. He thinks about the way her spine curves and curls, and how his palms would run circuits around the arc as he took her from behind. His mind flashes with images of her, and it isn’t long before he’s coming with a low groan of her name, his spend smearing over his knuckles.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been nearly a month now, or maybe he’s just more tired than usual, but Joel feels a particular pang of despair as he cleans himself up, and it’s enough to crack whatever resolve he had left.

He sleeps better that night, having decided that first thing the next morning he’s going to stop by the apothecary and he’s going to tell her that he’s done taking it slow.

That plan falls apart the moment he enters her shop. The first thing he notices is her bag, strewn out on the floor, a few jars and bottles spilling out of it, and his heart sinks. Next to Stevie, that bag is her baby, and Joel immediately knows that something isn’t right for it to be crumpled on the floor.

He calls out her name, but gets no response, though Stevie comes skittering out of the back room, making a beeline for his legs, frantically mewling as she rubs up against his pants leg, insistent and loud, and that isn’t quite right to him either.

Trying not to step on Stevie as she stays glued to his ankles, he shuffles into the back room, his brow scrunching up when he doesn’t see her, at least not right away.

“Joel?” That’s a voice he’s never heard from her before, barely there, hoarse, like she could only just get the word out. He steps further into the room, peering around the butcher’s block, and that’s when he finally sees her.

She’s curled in on herself, knees up to her chin, sitting in the back corner of the room. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swimming, tears streaking down her cheeks, the sight all but taking his breath away. He moves fast, his mind screaming at him that he needs to fix it, to make it better, whatever it is.

He’s quick to get down to her level, palms steadying her jaw as another resounding round of sobs rolls through her chest.

“Hey, hey– it’s ok, I’m here, huh? I’m right here. What– what happened? What is it?” His questions only seem to make her cry harder, shaking her head in his hands. She brings her hands to clasp his wrists, and it’s then that he notices dried blood lining her fingernails.

“You’re scaring me here, darlin. I need you to tell me what happened, please.”

“I lo-lost her– I lost her, I lost her, I can’t believe I lost her–” She breaks herself off with another sob, and Joel shifts to sit down next to her, wrapping his arms around her shuddering shoulders to coax her into his chest.

“Who– who’d you lose, darlin?” She evens out her shuddering breaths with a hard sigh, her answer coming on a few disjointed exhales.

“Maura went into labor last night– and I– and I– it was a girl– she was a girl– and she wasn’t breathing– she wasn’t breathing, Joel. And I didn’t know what to do.” She dissolves into another sob, and Joel doesn’t know what to do besides hold her a little closer, shock and sadness simmering in his veins. He remembers her telling him about Maura, one of her regular house visits to check on the progress of her pregnancy. She always told him how excited the woman seemed to get to become a mother.

“Is– is Maura ok?” He’s surprised by the bitter huff she lets out at that.

“I don’t kn-know. She kicked me out– told me it was my fault– she’s right– it’s all my– all my fault.” He’s quick to bring his palm to her jaw, coaxing her eyes up to meet his, gentle but firm pressure holding her there.

“Listen to me, it is not your fault. Not anyone’s fault, and it’s especially not yours. Whatever happened, I promise you, it is not your fault, do you understand?” She gives him no answer, just lets out another shaky sigh before burying her face back in his chest.

And all he can do is hold her as close as he can, and will some of her pain to seep into his skin, to make it even a little more bearable, to carry that for her. He reckons that he’d take it all away from her if he could.

................................

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel tlou #apothecary

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cmncisspnandmore · 6 months

Text

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar.

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk.

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face.

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again.

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it.

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water.

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him.

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap.

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass.

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap.

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin.

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow.

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together.

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose.

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth.

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin.

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern.

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you.

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers.

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…”

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent.

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie.

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.”

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod.

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?”

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots.

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin.

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks.

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you.

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date.

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would.

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us.

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.”

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.”

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked.

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights.

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it?

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks.

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door.

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots.

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses.

“Water is okay,” Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass.

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water.

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.”

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..”

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life.

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle.

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment.

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears.

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips.

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning.

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face.

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

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