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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | part II

joel miller x f!reader [5.2k] summary: It's the oldest case of blinded by love ever seen. All of the doubts and pining must have entertained the gods all this time. That's the explanation you settle for when you discover that just like you, Joel has been suffering in silence. Wanting. Craving you. 📝 This is the continuation of part 1 but it can be read as a stand-alone. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. 🏷️ Pining, idiots to lovers, sexual tension, smut build-up.

masterlist | part one ←

Everything was so fucking green. You hated it.

"Why d'you hate it?" Joel asked.

Unlike you, his recovery advanced fast. Bruises and cuts had the 'fading to yellow' tonalities, and he was now hunting deer and other animals with Ellie so you three did more than just survive winter. "'Cause I never see it." It's so beautiful out there. "Ever stopped to think about how the world looks healthier and prettier than it has in thousands of years, and we're all stuck inside walls?"

Joel usually takes a moment or two to reply, but when those moments stretch on, you look up from the floor to where he's sitting on the couch and—oh.

He's doing it again. Looking. Staring at you as if he's thinking a hundred things. You freeze under his gaze again, waiting for it, begging in your mind that he'll do it...

His hand reaches out in direction of your face, and everything inside you lights up.

He touches your hair.

Ever since that incident where you two were sleeping together a little closer than ever before, Joel's taken a liking to your hair.

Usually, the idea of anyone touching you, let alone your hair, is enough to make you break out in hives.

With him, you lean against the touch.

The hand on the side of your head starts doing sweet, caring movements, and you force yourself to open your eyes.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts by wondering, "What would you do if you were outside?"

That takes your memory back. You close your eyes, getting lost in his touch for a moment. "Probably... play something."

"Play what?"

Ignoring how his voice surrounds you when your vision is gone is difficult. "Anything that requires a ball." You somehow manage it. "My brothers and I—" their mention chokes you. Grips you by the throat.

As always, Joel waits.

"My brothers and I loved playing... anything," you chuckled. "It's the only time I wasn't bored."

"What did you enjoy the most?"

"Uh. Probably volley? I liked keeping the ball up high." You open your eyes then, missing the sight of his. Joel's watching his own hand in your hair and, in exchange, you get to watch his face. Before he can dive more into your past for his own distraction, you nudge his hand with your head. "I'm proud of you."

Joel knows exactly why, and still, "Why?"

You roll your eyes. "For making El believe in Santa Claus."

It happens again—Joel smiles. One week's passed since the incident and you're still mesmerized every time. "I don't think she'd believe him for too long."

"Joel."

He laughs through his nose, then places his gaze on your eyes. "I don't know why you'd be proud of me for that. It's stupid."

"Letting her go hunt on her own is stupid?"

"Sure is." He had a damn point, and you hated the world for it. "We both know how it could go."

"We do. And still, you allowed her to feel like a person who has some control over her life and who's capable of using her own hands to live." As someone who waited years for that same opportunity, you knew what it meant. "You don't know what this means to her, but I do."

Joel lived a life before chaos was the new natural order. He takes a second, his hand pausing its ministrations before he nods and continues his petting. "I believe you."

That means the world to me. "Thanks."

This time, Joel doesn't answer.

His hand keeps doing the thing it's grown fond of, and you keep pretending your body is not growing dependent on it like plants need air, water, and the Sun.

You think his hands and eyes on you might be your Sun.

You wish you could do the same for him.

The idea of rejection is what holds you back from so much.

Before last week, before he did this for the first time, the physical distance kept between you both was your seal of confirmation that Joel knew about your feelings. That he knew how much you burned for him, for a touch of his.

Now, you aren't so sure.

Then, you cried. Months ago, before this last ordeal of fuckery made your little triad retreat to a cold cabin in the mountains, you cried over the mere thought that Joel saw you as he did Ellie.

Like a daughter.

It plagued you until it showed up in your dreams and made you weep because of it.

All your life you waited for the moment when the desire for someone became real. When wanting and feeling a connection became as tangible as the tension that cloaked the quarantined city every day.

When it came, it was him.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts with a chuckle, "You remind me of a cat."

You were leaning against his touch again. This time, you keep your eyes closed. "Feels nice." More than nice. "So nice."

He laughs again. "I can see that."

That pulls your eyes to open. Joel's face is fixed on you. His right hand is hidden by his shirt, tucked on top of the cloth soaked with medicinal paste. It's why he took the touch after a lot of arguments, minutes before Ellie left for the hunt. "You're a cat, too," you argue.

Joel raises one eyebrow at that. "How?"

"Skittish."

"I'm skittish?" the smile is making its way back to his lips.

You nod. "I'd pet you too if I didn't think you'd hiss and run for the hills."

Fuck. Barely are the words out of your mouth before you feel the heat creeping up your neck to cover your face. Out here, there are lamps with candles.

Joel sees you with clarity.

A deer caught under the spotlights. Not a cat, then.

It's his smile, opening slowly but surely, that makes the tension leave your shoulders. "Ellie says I can be a grouchy hedgehog with anger issues. One that stinks. And you... wanna pet my hair?"

Ellie's a child, Joel. I want you. "El is a sharp-tongued kid who loves making you frown." It's also the truth. "And yes. I do," in a much lower voice, you finish with, "it looks soft."

Joel shakes his head, his smile widening. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"My dirty hair. It looks soft," he repeats, fixing you under his gaze.

You look away. "Nevermind," you mumble.

Joel should remain still on that couch, but he moves. Laughing, his hand goes back to what it did before, and pulls you closer as his upper body leans forward. He sort of—nuzzles. It's not a kiss—Joel just touches his nose to your hair, and you feel his laughing coming out through his nose.

When he stops laughing, he leans back down on the couch.

His tender touch on your hair continues.

"You're so..." he trails off, and you wished you were still looking at him. "I wouldn't run," he adds.

That gets your attention. Your eyes find his, and your heart seems to grow two sizes with the way it beats. "No?"

"No."

Immediately, your eyes fall to the couch he's lying on—you hate it. It's small. Old. With no room for another person there. "I'll show later that it's nice," you settle for.

Even if the couch could fit a whole family of three, you know that you'd remain where you are.

"Later?"

"Yeah. No space for me up there."

"Oh." Joel sits up in a single motion, causing you to sit up straight. Your cheek was resting on the small part of the couch his body wasn't, but now, you watch as he lifts up his shirt to inspect his bruised side.

The second you see skin, usually, you avert your gaze. This time, you inspect the colors and healing with him. It looks... ok. Still painful, just as your own body is, but no shooting pain with every move you make.

Joel places the rag on the couch without care and nods. "C'mon. We were up all night re-making the supplies, and El's only gonna be back in a couple of hours. We should rest."

Following Joel is the norm by now. Wordless, you walk behind him in direction of the room.

The mattresses are still pushed together.

There are three backpacks with several items placed in front of them on the other side of the room, a handful of handles spread around the corners, and on top of that old brown blanket, Ellie's drawing book.

"She was here again," you tell him.

Joel's kneeling in front of his backpack with the cassette player in hand. "I don't know why. Her room's the only one with an actual bed."

"She's restless," you say as you move her notebook to the floor, "and ever since you taught her how to scout perimeters, she uses that opportunity to find 'cool shit' around places."

Joel hums in reply, and then you hear a click.

In a very low volume—low enough that only these walls must be capturing sound, his tape Saxophone Colossus fills the air with a gorgeous sound.

He makes his way to the bed and lies right next to with you a grunt.

Your bodies' sides are touching. He places his left forearm under his head, using it as a pillow, and then turns his head to the side where your waiting eyes are already observing him.

"She found the water heater," Joel agrees.

His voice is always lower here. Either that or you're in closer chambers and always use that as an excuse to drown in it. "She did."

"Can you turn it on to heat up some water when she comes back?"

You nod, smiling at him. This part is so good. "'course," you want to scoot closer, but—always but. "I'd rather prepare three baths measuring the water with a coffee cup rather than skin animals alive."

Joel's side smile returns. He stares for a moment, and says, "I don't know how you learned it that well. You hate doing it."

"I learned it 'cause I had to." For her. For Ellie, it goes unsaid. "Doesn't mean I'll ever want to ever again."

"Thank gods they didn't butcher my arm, then."

You close your eyes, whining a little. "No. Please—don't even joke about it."

Joel laughs. "I'll make sure to keep my arm. For both of your sakes."

"Thank you," you open your eyes again.

"No problem," his grin is kind of intoxicating. From this up close, watching Joel smile does to you the same that a full glass of bourbon does. "C'mere," he tilts his chin down at the same time as he stretches his arm to your head, "there's space now."

It hits you what Joel's doing. Inviting you in.

Call it instinct. When you raise your upper body just enough for his arm not to linger awkwardly in the air, you're still registering what is going on, and then—

his chest.

Joel guides your head there, and as it's custom, you follow.

It lands you where you dreamt of being for months now.

His body adjusts underneath you, getting comfortable.

You're so lost in the feeling of his heat that you miss the beat. When you feel his breathing becoming even and his hand moving in your hair, you notice how comfortable you are.

How perfect it feels.

Joel pets your hair for a little while before you manage to find yourself again.

A song must pass and in it, your mind lives through the most blissful few moments of peace and quiet it's ever had.

Nothing happens. No thoughts, no doubts, just this.

When you come back to what is reality, no matter how dream-painted it looks, Joel's heart sings under your ears.

You can hear it beating.

Then, you remember why you're here now. "Can I do it?" you ask.

Your body remembers it can move and does something else it's been dreaming of for a while. It cuddles. It adjusts itself in order to be comfortably aligned with his, and your chin tilts upwards to get a look at his face.

From this angle, all your see is beard until he looks down. "Do what?" The question is betrayed by the hint of a smile on him. It might be a product of your own rapid heartbeat, but Joel seems to gain a little bit of color. "Pet my 'soft' hair?"

"I can hear the air quotes and I don't appreciate them."

You love to make him laugh. This time, you get to feel it. Even if it all goes down someday, at least you'll always have this memory. "You can," he replies once he's done laughing.

Breathe in, you decide this position is just fine, and move your right hand up until it finds his hair. Breathe out.

The angle is uncomfortable—not the best, nor the worst, but it does its job.

It feels greasy when your hands run through them, but not dirty. It is as soft as you imagined it.

It takes him some time too — one song and a half — before Joel's body is fully relaxed. His heartbeat takes the longest.

You feel the times when he lifts his left arm to check the clock to see if Ellie is still in her two-hours time.

None of you sleep, but that doesn't matter.

Rest nowadays goes beyond hours shutting down the brain. Laying there with Joel is the most you feel truly rested, even if the circumstances are these.

Whatever leads to you in his arms, you'll take it.

It's worth the wait. Makes you feel alive.

Ellie eats like a starved animal, every time.

"Slow down, kid, jesus fuck," you tell her, without fail, every single time.

By now, she does slow. It's like she needs a reminder—there is food, and we'll find you more if you need it.

Once, Joel wondered what the fuck did they feed her in that military school. You're unsure if you want to know.

"Did you two rest?" she asks with her mouth full.

"Really?" he gives her the look of 'gross, El', but she only rolls her eyes at him. "And yeah, we did."

"I already warmed up the water for showers." The wood bath structure was perfect for a shower, and heating up all of the baths inside that room already made the temperature rise a little. "You can go first."

"Telling me I stink?" she asks you.

You grin. "Always do, bug." Little bug. That's who she was to you—a nature's wonder. "Not enough showers in the world to change that."

"We should be honest with her," Ellie turns to Joel, and you think oh here it comes. "She can't smell herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel replies in faux seriousness. "I'm certain all three of us smell like fields of flowers. The one that's most us, y'know? Like me, for example, I'm clearly a blue orchid."

It's been like that since those guys jump you three. Whatever lock kept Joel doing his best to push you two out, was just gone.

He presses his makeshift plate closer to lean in your direction and say, "Do I smell like orchids? Is it amazing? Any hints of some type of wood underneath?"

Joel's silly.

It's not something either one of you expected but welcomed with open arms.

He'll say the stupidest things to make Ellie laugh. He acts, and then winks in your direction to say 'gotcha'.

Ellie leaves for her shower, and leaves you two alone.

The air's back to what it was before she arrived.

It's always been different without her around, but now it's this. Joel finishes his meat and cleans the tip of his fingers with his lips. You try to look away. You fail.

He pulls you back. "Can I ask you something?"

You're almost done with your meal, but now that he's talking and his whole focus is back on you, the hunger left. Switched. "Always."

"Do you feel... lonely?"

What a stupid, and painfully sharp question. "No." I'm scared to ask the same. "Of course I don't," you say. "There's you. El. I'm... well-accompanied."

Whatever he was looking for, the answer must deliver. "Okay." He looks in the direction of the bathroom —Ellie— and then back at you. This time, he scoots closer to you and fits himself to fit in your side.

You open up to him, happy to create more space.

You'd wrap yourself around his whole body if you could. Make a home somewhere between his arms and his thighs. His smile always in line of sight.

With arms wide open, Joel pulls his chair, screeching the floor until he's content with the proximity. His head lays on top of your chest, and your hands immediately go to his hair.

There's no music to measure time, but you've grown fond of the 'peace and quiet' he always went on about.

Eventually, he speaks. "We can't fall asleep here."

You laugh against his hair. "It hasn't been even five minutes. You know she's mixing cold and 'hot scalding water' until the temperature's just perfect like she's a mad scientist until now. We have at least twenty minutes."

"Hmmm." He nuzzles his head, and you pray your hummingbird of a heart won't disturb him.

Joel asked you about what you thought of his plans for once you two were healed. That's what you both discussed with Ellie as you ate.

The conversation changes two or three times before he lands on it.

"Well—after all of it. Tommy, or Fireflies—what do you want?"

You're still lost in the last topic, and the feeling of his hair running like silk through your fingers. "Do we even know if we trust them?"

"Trust who?"

"The Fireflies, obviously."

"Ah. Hm. I suppose we don't," on your arms, Joel nudges you with his body. "Forget 'em for a sec."

You open your eyes and his head is lying so nicely on your shoulder. He locks eyes with you, and asks. "What do you want after that?"

Like that. As if it's simple. "Are you asking if I want ice cream or move to the Arctic?" What an absurd. "I don't fuckin' know. I hope I'm alive. In one piece. And so are you two. The end."

"You don't want anythin'?"

It's infuriating. He is right there, looking up at you with those stupid gorgeous brown eyes and, "It's not that simple," comes out before something else does.

Not enough of an answer, apparently. Joel shakes his head. "'s just a scenario. A 'what if' for the future, since we can't do them about the past. Indulge me."

"So, like, a hypothetical world where you, and El, and I, we're all good. And we... found Tommy. Or maybe the Fireflies."

"Yeah."

"And they've given us a little more than just 'she's the cure' to work with... And we can—I don't know, sit back and watch some scientists do science? That's the scenario?"

"You're paitin' it much better than me," he smiles. "Go on."

You roll your eyes. "In that scenario—I want ice cream."

Joel groans. "Oh, c'mon." He sighs, and whispers your name under his breath. He leans close enough for his hair to tickle your cheeks. "Tell me. Somethin' you always wanted growing up, I don't know."

"It's a difficult question!" you defend yourself, smiling despite being cornered by his new musings.

"It is. And you can think on it, if you want," Joel nuzzles his head to comfort once again on your shoulder, then closes his eyes. "I'm just curious about the stuff you wanted to do before someone threw a mission on your lap, that's all."

"Okay. I'm thinkin'."

"I can hear the engines turning," he whispers. You poke the side of his body, because you know now that you can, and then—, "I already know you're gonna ask me the same so I'll start thinkin' about my own answer to. And don't bullshit me—if you tell me you'd rather have an x-burger instead of ice cream I'll poke a finger in one of your bruises."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," he laughs.

"I'd kill for an x-burger, now that you mentioned," your voice lowers to a whisper too.

"Same. Now shhh and think. I'm sure you've had aspirations beyond babysitting the unique child and teaming up with my ugly mug."

That's what stops you. Ugly mug.

Your eyes open, and the intensity in them must pierce through his darkness, because Joel feels the eyes on him and looks straight at you. "What?" he looks confused.

Your first mental lap is to be angry—

how can he not see it? it's right in front of him—but then.

Insecurities.

The ones you have and cloud your thoughts with every rising Sun—of course Joel had them, too. He was older, this world was far from kind, and—

He gets up, looking every bit as lost in thoughts as you are, and starts gathering the things from around the fire.

You took too long to answer, and his nervousness always shows up in one of two ways: sleep, or organizing.

"You genuinely think that?" you ask after a second.

Joel gathers the plates in his hand and uses the snow water to rinse them. "Which part? That I think you deserve more or that my mug is ugly? 'Cause yes to both."

"That's—wow." Your laughter is dry, something very unusual.

It makes him look at you. "Wow what, woman?"

He only calls you that when he's getting impatient. "That's crazy to me."

"What is? I never asked you either one of these questions 'cause the first one could be misread—I don't want you thinkin' I'm tryna get rid of you—"

"Thank god."

"—and the second one." He sighs, and puts the plates together. Everything that's not being used always goes back to the backpacks in cases of emergency. Joel looms there over the sink with them in hand, and you wait. "I'd say something stupid like 'does that kind of thing ever matter anymore' but the truth is, I can't see a scenario that it doesn't, and I'd rather live without your honest opinion about this."

"I am always honest in my opinions," you agree.

"Exactly. That's why I never asked you what you thought of my face—I can sleep without that one," he concludes.

"You were right, too. Saying 'does beauty matter anymore' would be stupid 'cause we always looked and always will look for things that we think are pleasing to the eye. It's human nature, don't you think?"

He nods, and then moves to where the backpacks are to put away the cans and plates. "It is."

"I think a lot of things are beautiful. Mostly it's nature, though. And woman. D'you think I'm weird for that?"

Joel looks over his shoulders and the answer is written all over his face.

You shrug your shoulders. "I know some people who definitely would."

"I know some people who have fungi tentacles exiting their mouths. We've learned these past few years that our species isn't the smartest."

"Touché," you laugh. "I do think you're handsome, though."

It freezes the air as if someone opened a door and let the cold air inside.

"Not that you asked—but," you look away from his frame, losing the confidence to look at him as you go on, "you're... beautiful." Most men would hate that adjective. You know that because you heard it from your brothers—only women are 'beautiful'. "I know men don't like that word used to describe them, but—"

"What men?"

"I don't know," you shrug again, wanting to have a shell to retrieve out of nowhere. "Most men? It's what my brothers told me."

"Well—they don't speak for me, then."

It's the feeling of his eyes on you that makes you gaze in his direction. "I like the white hairs, too," for some reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, "and your beard. It's even. Frames your face well."

Joel looked frozen under a spell.

He stared at you with intent and focus you'd never seen before.

Since you started, you might as well finish. "The crinkles by your eyes are smile-made. I like that."

It works—it brings them out. Joel starts smiling, even if his eyes look a little lost. "Smile-made?" he echos.

"Yeah. They're there 'cause of your smile. Some people have lines 'cause they frown a lot, or grimace, or are always judging. I don't like those lines."

"I have worry lines."

"We all have worry lines, Jo. It's the end of the world."

He laughs. "Touché."

"That's my favorite part, though." He stops laughing at those words, and you miss it instantly. "Your smile."

His gaze softens. "You like my smile?"

"You almost never smile," you say, hating that sad truth, "and it's a beautiful smile," you think if anything else comes out, it might be too much. Too close to the truth, so, "in conclusion: handsome. So—I do think you're a little crazy. It might not be often, but we still see mirrors every now and then."

His silence as an answer made the jittery nerves climb up your legs, soothing like an ointment every bruise it found in its way.

Joel staring at you was the reason why you lacked sleep, sometimes.

Too many thoughts about what he was thinking. Too many scenarios about what it would be like to have the courage to make the first move.

It's he who does it.

When it comes, you're too lost in a trance to properly register his steps coming back to you.

He sits on the chair next to you again. Grabs your chair with one hand, and pulls it close to his until they're touching.

He's so close you could count the gray hairs you like so much on his beard.

When he leans in closer, you're breathing his air, and it makes goosebumps rise all over your skin. On your arms, your neck, your back.

Joel moves one hand to your neck at the same pace one moves when hunting wild animals.

As if every movement could result in being seen, and the prey running away.

When he's only a couple of inches away from your face, you feel the heat of his palm spread across your neck; his thumb caressing your cheek. He asks, "Talk to me. Is this—Am I reading it wrong?"

If you have a voice, it's gone. You shake your head and do the only thing you needed all this long—you lean, too.

Sometimes, things are so important that every second of it counts.

Joel's lips on yours are one of those things.

You're shaking, at first.

Although inexperience is part of the reason why you're so terrified of doing something, this part you know.

It's the only one you have confidence in, so you let all the worries on your shoulders go, and you kiss him back.

Joel wants you to.

The notion that he might've been as lost in his head as you were in yours makes you want to cry. You whimper against his mouth instead, pressing so much harder when the reality of what is happening catches up to you.

Joel pulls back for just a second, "It's okay, I got you," he seals the words by pressing his lips on yours again.

All of your reservations fly out of the window with those last three words.

You throw your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself too in the process. Joel laughs right there, with his lips still on yours, and catches your weight.

With your fingers threaded through his hair and holding on for dear life, you let him do it—let him guide you.

Kissing Joel makes your head drown in every other moment you two shared and you could feel your heart beating in your throat.

He takes it slow with you, despite feeling the shivers all over your body.

Joel nips on your bottom lip until you open up for him.

He kisses by sucking, then pecking your lips, and when he finally pushes his tongue in your mouth, you forget where you two are for a moment.

The moan is involuntary, and even with eyes closed you feel them rolling to the back of your head.

Joel's hand on your nape starts massaging your neck and he says, "Shhh, gorgeous, 's okay," he licks into your mouth again.

Rewiring your brain is so easy for him. Gorgeous.

Just like when you two discovered that touching one another was an option a week ago, learning that this is on the table is almost comical. You feel like a starved person being delivered a feast, and stopping is far from an option.

When you pull back for air because there's none left in your body, the string of saliva connecting your mouth to Joel's makes you tremble again.

He needs to know. Tell him. If he knows he's the only man — or person — who's ever awakened desire in you, maybe he'll understand why you're like a leaf in his hands.

Joel's hand comes up to your cheek. It's huge, covering almost half of your face, and when he whispers, "Open your eyes," you realize that you'd closed them again.

His eyes are the warmest part of him. "Hi," you mumble. "Please tell me you'll do this again."

Joel smiles. "If you wait a few more hours, El will be asleep," he swallows visibly and you think what on Earth could he be nervous to, "I can help you... cleaning your wounds. You could help me."

Right. Bathing together, even if 'bathing' is a strong word for it.

Inexperienced. No knowledge whatsoever other than books you read in the abandoned library. What will you do with him? What will—

"We don't have to, obviously," he interrupts your thoughts. "And yeah. I wanna do this more. Of course I do," Joel kisses you again, and you hold his head in place for a few more moments, stealing more kisses to numb your mind. "God, I wanted this since I met you."

"Joel."

"It's true."

"I'm happy to know we're both idiots," and even happier that was behind. "And—I mean. A helping hand is always good... right?"

The look he gives you does it again—a shiver, and it's not from the cold.

The mere idea of his hands on you is enough to make you sweat.

Maybe that's the perfect timing and opportunity to lay it on him that he's signing up for something he might not want.

"You want my help?" he asks. He nuzzles his face on yours, rubbing his beard on your cheek, down to your neck.

You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Yeah."

"I'll do my best."

It'll be more than enough. That is—if you can survive the next few hours. If his kisses alone are enough to almost bring you to a fever again, his hands might kill you.

You would die happy.

PART THREE →

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @bistarlight

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honestlydarkprincess · 23 days

Text

oh, bi the way

buckley sibling feels || rated: g || wc: 663

Buck knocked on the door, his hands shaking slightly. He blew out a breath and bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for Maddie to answer the door.

The door opened and Buck felt himself relax as his older sister came into view. “Buck? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you! Come on in.”

Buck followed behind Maddie, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry to drop in on you without calling, I just— I needed to talk to you.”

“You don’t have to call, Buck,” Maddie said, giving him a soft look. “You know that. Our door is always open to you.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Uh, you might want to sit down.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me,” Maddie said, hesitantly sitting down at the kitchen table. She gestured for Buck to sit next to her but he shook his head and stayed standing. “What’s going on, Buck?”

He swallowed roughly and let out a shaky sigh. “I need to tell you something. I— I, uh, kind of only just realized this? It’s new. Very new and I’m— I don’t— I don’t know how to say it.”

Maddie watched as he paced in front of her. “Hey, Buck, look at me. There’s nothing you can’t tell me—“

“I think I’m bisexual,” Buck blurted out, cutting her off.

It was quiet for a beat and then Maddie gave him a gentle smile, standing up and holding her arms out. “Come here.”

Buck folded himself into her arms, making himself smaller and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Thank you for telling me,” Maddie whispered, stroking her hand up his back. “I know that wasn’t easy and I’m so proud of you, Evan. I really am.”

“Thank you,” Buck mumbled, squeezing her tight. He still felt shaky, adrenaline in his veins. He’d known that Maddie would be nothing but supportive but coming out was still scary as hell and she was one of the most important people in the world to him.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Maddie said, nudging him towards it. “You’re shaking.”

Maddie led him to the couch and they sat down, Buck leaning his head on her shoulder. Her arm came around him and her fingers settled in his hair, playing with it gently and making him relax even further. They sat like that for a while, with Maddie just calmly carding her fingers through his hair and Buck waiting for his racing heart to settle down.

“Have you told anyone else?” Maddie asked when Buck finally settled.

“No, I wanted you to be the first,” Buck admitted shyly.

Maddie squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m honoured.”

“Do I have to tell the others?”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to,” Maddie said firmly. “If you want to tell the team, I know they’ll be more than supportive but if you aren’t ready there’s absolutely no rush, Buck. You decide when you’re ready. If at all.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck mumbled. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell them— or that I think they’ll be unsupportive— it’s just…it feels like a big thing and I don’t want anything to change. I hate change.”

“I know you do, but just remember you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, okay?” She moved so Buck had to look her in the eyes. “This is something that you control. When and if you’re ready, the team will be there to support you. They’re our family. Everything will be okay.” “Will you be there?” Buck asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “When I tell them?”

“If you want me to, I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” Maddie squeezed his hand, giving him a bright smile. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” Buck smiled. He held his hand out for her to lock her pinky with his. “I always can.”

read on ao3

#jess.fics #jess.writes #my writing #my fics #the buckley siblings #buckley sibling feels #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #maddie buckley #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #911 spec #911 speculation #911 spoilers #911 abc spoilers #911 abc speculation #7x04 #7x04 coda

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

Something Borrowed, Something New

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - i just finished my play through of my astarion run and to say i feel hollow about the ending is SUCH an understatement. So since the game doesn’t have the storage space to give me a slice of life simulator with my favorite vampire, then ive decided to make one myself ~

Word count - 1.6K

Warnings - N/A ~ sickly sweet fluff, minor spoilers, baby’s first blurb

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“My darling, if you keep your nose buried in those books, your life is going to pass before your eyes.”

The gentle tease brought your wandering tiefling mind hurtling back to earth. In truth, you hadn’t even been reading, the words in front of you becoming a mess of blurry text and complicated theories. You lifted your gaze to meet the source of the tease, the entire reason behind your recent studies.

“It’s an important book, Astarion. The shopkeep said this book has anything and everything anyone knows about vampires.” Your lips took on a slight smile as the exasperation in your voice lifted, “Or do you want to spend the rest of your life trying to remember what the sun feels like.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, leaning back against the plush chair and crossing his arms, “That shopkeep of yours is a con-man. If there was a cure to being what I am, it wouldn’t be in some silly book.”

The elf softened his tone as he saw the way his lover’s shoulders dropped, knowing it wasn’t fair to discredit any of her attempts at curing his… affliction. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t at least attempt to sleep, darling.”

You allowed yourself a dramatic sigh as the book slipped out of your hands, being gently taken by the white-haired thief. You knew he was right, knew that there was no more information to glean from this book, especially not while your eyes drooped and your mind grew foggy. As much as you hated giving Astarion the pleasure of being right, and you did hate it, you were exhausted. Exhausted and feeling utterly hopeless at your task

”You may be right.” You said in a small voice, “It would be much to easy to open a book and find a spell to let a vampire spawn walk in the sunlight”

The cushion you sat upon dipped slightly, gentle arms pulling you into a comforting embrace.

“You know how uncomfortable seeing you in pain makes me, pet” Astarion murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

”I just want to find a cure already” You protested, “A spell, a potion, a demon contract I can sign to get you under that god-forsaken ball of fire again. You would think that taking down a hoard of ilithid would make any challenge look like a stroll through the woods.” Your words were tense and harsh, a tone you immediately regretted as you felt the pale elf beside you stiffen against it.

“You must have patience, my darling. It’s only been a couple of years since we’ve began this journey.” His fingers poked into your side teasingly, earning a small laugh. “We do have forever, you know.

“Mmhm, forever with a dramatic vampire who wants to go adventuring for a cure but hates being away from his precious comforts.” You teased, looking back up at him.

”Oh, please.” Astarion tutted disapprovingly. “You’d think after a couple centuries of servitude and then saving the world would earn a man the rights to a comfort or two.”

Your sleepy head found a comfortable place in the crook of the vampires neck, the rest of you leaning into his cool touch. “Well if you’re so attached to them, maybe we should just stay here and find a way to enjoy your ‘comfort or two.”

Silence fell over the small room in the even tinier inn. You were uncomfortably aware of the lack of snide remark back from your partner. With Astarion, silence was always an abnormality.

”Or somewhere bigger.” You added jokingly, your voice coming out as an unsure whisper.

You weren’t sure about how Astarion felt about settling down. In truth, it hadn’t come up in the time you’d been together so far. Most of your talks were about next steps, new theories, different wizards to contact with questions about Astarion’s condition. Neither of you had been brave enough to talk about the life you might both lead if Astarion was able to live normally again. Neither brave enough to face the disappointment of that future being possibly impossible. But the more you adventured, the more days spent sleeping in one Inn after another, you felt the longing to put down roots more and more every day.

You bit your lip, hands nervously picking at nails already picked to the short. Wouldn’t Astarion find that kind of thinking entirely selfish? How could you ask him to sacrifice further potential freedom?

You were brought back to your thoughts again as Astarion’s slender hand tilted your chin towards his gaze. The relief that filled you as you saw his knowing smile was probably laughable, the crinkles next to his eyes as he grinned dissipating what was left of your anxiety. What did it matter where you were and what you were doing or where your head lay when daylight started to seem into the sky? It’s the person you awoke beside that’s important.

”What thoughts fill those pretty head of yours?” Astarion teased. Peering at your forehead as he were trying to see the physical thoughts.

”Oh, just thinking of what a nightmare you will be when we have a place of our own after this mess.” You retorted, smiling, pulling your best impersonation of the man next to you “Oh, not there, darling. Those drapes simply must be a hair to the left. And who on earth did this border? Aht, no one in this town can embroider properly.” You flourished your hands dramatically, putting on a rather good play of the vampire.

”I don’t sound a thing like that, love.” He replied, feigning offense. “Besides, I would be right to say that. Not a soul knows the right way to handle a needle and thread. I suppose I’ll have to take up the position, myself.”

“You? Start a shop and make honest money?” You scoffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Well why couldn’t I?” The familiar whiny tone you knew and loved began creeping back into his voice. “How much could a shop possibly cost? I would create marvels of woven artistry and you could do… well… everything else.” He finished certainly.

”That seems much too boring for someone like you, Astarion.” He couldn’t possibly be serious about this. Astarion? A shopkeep? He was rather skilled with fabrics, but would he be satisfied with such a simple life?

”Boring sounds… nice.” Astarion replied simply, his words becoming soft and serious. “Maybe sunlight isn’t worth watching the years roll by before me.”

Your breath stilled as you faced him.

“You… You want to settle down?” You asked.

Astarion scoffed, the humor settling back into his tone. “Settle down? I simply offered staying in one place for more than a few nights. You excite to easily, my darling.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, thankful for the end of the serious moment. Even now, you couldn’t always wrap your mind around Astarion’s. Whether he was joking or now, what he really wanted in the end. It somehow always seemed a mystery right outside of your grasp.

”What would you say to that, however?” Astarion prodded. “If I told you that I wanted to… well, uhm… settle down?”

You paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as you searched his red irises.

“I would wonder if you’ve been replaced by a doppelgänger.” You replied accusingly.

“Well” he sighed, exasperated. “ Then write me down as a doppelgänger, I’d like to live in a little house with a shop downstairs filled with my own creations. To be horribly and utterly… domestic.”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that crawled across your face. The hope and excitement that filled your face.

”Oh don’t look at me like that!” Astarion complained, giving you a look of mock horror. “You look as if I just told you that I’ve given up a life of debauchery.”

You shrugged, grinning wickedly, “Is that not what you’re saying, Astarion?”

”No, of course not, darling.” He replied defiantly. “I’m just saying that I’m going to find a way to buy the next empty building we see and see how many people can be manipulated into buying my creations.”

”Lucky for you, Baldur’s Gate is within a day's travel. You may have to put your coin where your sinful mouth is.” You said with finality, truly thinking you were calling his bluff.”

“It’s settled then.” He smirked, leaning in to place a searing kiss against your unexpecting lips. You felt his arms snake further around you and… past you?

With difficulty, you willed yourself to pull away from the kiss, looking behind yourself questioningly. ”What are you-“ You paused, seeing the gold rimmed vase Astarion now had in his grasp.”

”It’s our something borrowed.” He shrugged. “For our new shop.”

You couldn’t hold back the almost overly dramatic eye roll. “First, love, that’s not borrowing, that’s stealing and two…” You felt your cheeks heat. “The phrase ‘something borrowed, something new’ is for wedding’s. Not for new shops and homes.”

”Oh, well… we should probably do that too.” Astarion said plainly, scooping you up to carry you to the bed not a stone’s toss away.

You gasped, hitting his chest gentle and putting on your best glare. “That is not how you propose to a woman you cur.”

Astarion chuckled as he placed you on the bed, climbing under the blankets with you. “You can lecture me about that tomorrow, darling. For now-“ He brushed his lips against yours, a sweet and loving kiss, “You simply must get some sleep. How else will we go shopping for your ‘something new’ tomorrow?”

You smiled as you leaned into his touch, snuggling against his chest. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, he’d probably hear your excitement for the future through your words and not believe your chiding anyways. you were thankful for the ability to hide your face against him, your fingers tracing lazy circles along his chest,

If it weren’t for the gentle pale reds and purples that began to chase away the deep blue night, you could’ve stayed awake grinning like that forever.

#astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion fluff #fluff #baldurs gate tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

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mountsmase · 6 months

Text

a/n: hi 🤭 I just wanted to say a quick thank you for all of the love on my last fic, I was so nervous to post it and it means the world that you all enjoyed it 🩷 this fic is just a little something that came to my mind after all the golf content we got last weekend and it ended up being so much longer than I thought 👀 I loved writing this but it is still only the second piece of smut I’ve ever written, so it’s not perfect but I really do hope you guys enjoy it 🩷

word count: 5k

genre: Smut/Fluff

———————

Patience - MM7

You watch as Mason approaches the tee box, failing to follow the path of the ball when he eventually hits it.

The flexing of his muscles and the black ink of his tattoos a much more appealing sight to you, which you find yourself struggling to pull your gaze away from.

You’re currently sat on the cold, faux leather seat of a golf buggy, playing spectator whilst Mason plays a round of golf with a few of his friends.

It’s a rare week where neither of you have any obligations. International break has given him some free time after a busy month of matches and you finally have some time off work.

You knew he’d be playing golf with the boys today, and when he initially invited you to join them a couple of days ago you’d been hesitant and had ultimately said no. Letting him know that you wanted him to spend some uninterrupted quality time with his friends, which is something he’s not been able to do in a while.

He’d been pouty, arguing that he’d not been able to spend time with you in a while either, but you managed to convince him to go without you, really not wanting to infringe on his time with his friends. After all, you had the whole rest of the week to spend together, you could last one more day being without each other.

Or so you thought.

When he rolled out of bed early this morning, placing a quick kiss onto your forehead before asking you one more time if you wanted to join him, you caved.

Suddenly not so keen on the idea of being without him all day when you watched him change in to a simple black shirt with trousers that hug his body perfectly.

So here you are.

Woody steps up to take his shot and Mase makes his way back over to the cart. He puts his club away before settling into the seat next to you and takes the moment where the boys are distracted to pull you closer to him. Your body practically on top of his on the little leather bench.

You can’t help but sink into him as he peppers kisses on your shoulder, the light scratch of his beard sending shivers along your body as he continues his way up your neck, your hand landing on his thigh out of instinct.

When he sucks lightly on your soft spot, you slide you hand up a little higher, fingers grasping gently at his skin when you feel the hem of his boxers through the material of his trousers. Two can play at this game.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Masey” you whisper close to his ear.

“Who said anything about stopping?” He replies casually, a little too casually for your liking and when you catch that mischievous glint in his eye you know you’re not going to like whatever he says next.

“Just need to learn a little patience baby, I’m all yours once we’re home, promise” he murmurs close to your ear, placing one last kiss to your shoulder and your whole body heats up at the thought of being alone with him later.

You’re pulled out of your bubble when the rest of the boys climb into their respective carts, pulling away to go and find their balls.

Mason sends you a cheeky wink, hand settling high on your thigh as he follows them down towards the fairway and it’s then that you realise you’re in for a long afternoon.

The rest of the day goes by way too slowly, the time dragging as Mason does everything in his power to rile you up.

He’s always doing something, resting his hand a little too high up your thigh, his head falling into your neck and leaving barely there kisses to your skin when the others aren’t looking, brushing his fingers over you skin or resting against the side of the golf buggy, arms on full display whilst he acts completely innocent. It’s all driving you crazy.

His incessant teasing makes the minuets feel like hours and your patience is wearing thin.

Your busy schedules have meant you’ve not really had time to be intimate together recently, with one of you always being too tired or just generally not having the time.

You miss him loads, and that - combined with his endless teasing and the promises he made earlier - has your mind spiralling every time he so much as looks in your direction.

And you know you’re done for when he messes up his shot at a later hole, letting out a ‘fuck’ as he throws his head back.

All the boys laugh with him, but you find your mind in a completely different place. The sound of the groan leaving his lips and the stretch of his neck as he tilts it back sending a rush of heat straight to your core.

You know in that moment that you need to get him home soon, the urge to touch him becoming harder to resist by the second.

—————

“Finally,” you mutter, speaking under your breath when he pulls his car into the driveway of your shared home many hours later.

You can’t deny that you had a great day, enjoying the time you got to spend with him and his friends, but, after watching him play a full 18 holes, and then having to sit through a long meal at the club house, you’re glad to finally be alone with him - not to mention how incredibly worked up you are after all of his teasing.

You enter the house in front of him, kicking off your shoes before rushing upstairs, leaving him to lock up behind you.

You make your way into your bedroom and plug your phone into charge before heading over to your full length mirror to begin removing your jewellery.

Mase isn’t far behind you and you can see him entering the bedroom in the reflection of the mirror, closing the door softly behind him before making a beeline for you.

He stands behind you, meeting your gaze in the mirror and you almost melt when he reaches up, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he unclips your necklace.

He leans over, placing it into your little jewellery box that sits on the cabinet beside the mirror, and you feel goosebumps spread all over when his chest brushes against your back.

His hands gravitate to your hips, wordlessly turning you around so that you’re facing him and he barely gives you time to prepare before he’s crashing his lips into yours.

His plush lips move against yours in perfect sync, and he’s tightening his grip on your waist to pull you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together and your hands find his shoulders frantically. Needing something to hold onto when you feel his bulge press into you through the layers of clothing that separate you.

He coaxes your lips open, slipping his tongue into your mouth and the way he brushes it against yours in slow, languid strokes has all over thoughts leaving your mind until all that’s left is him. Him and his lips and his hands that are roaming all over your body.

“Been waiting for this all day” he says between kisses, chuckling against your mouth and you can’t help but roll your eyes. The two of you knowing full well that he was the one making you do the waiting.

His lips disappear from yours, head burying into your neck, carefully nipping at your delicate skin and if it weren’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve melted to the floor then and there.

“Mase” you sigh when he sucks against your sensitive skin, the feeling of his warm lips and the scratch of his beard against your skin sending pleasure shooting down your spine.

Your hands grip onto his shoulders, his own roaming over your back and you arch up into him when he finds your sweet spot, teeth grazing the skin before sucking harshly.

“Mason, please” you whimper,

He smirks up at you, “Please what, bubs?”

“You know what”

“I don’t think I do,” he teases, “tell me what you want, baby girl”

“You, your mouth, your fingers, anything, please”

The heat of his body leaves yours and he wordlessly guides you over to the bed, pushing you down gently to sit on the mattress.

“Arms up” he instructs, and you do as he asks, lifting your arms in the air so that he can pull your t-shirt over your head and a groan rumbles in his throat when he notices the bra you’re wearing, the white lacy fabric leaving little to the imagination.

“Lie back for me, baby” he murmurs, and when your back hits the mattress, his lips are quick in finding your collar bone.

He scatters sloppy, open mouth kisses along your chest, stopping every now and then to pay extra attention to the spots where he knows you’re most sensitive.

The little noises leaving your lips spur him on as he makes his way further down your body, not leaving a single inch of skin untouched by his lips.

When he finally meets the waist band of your jeans he taps your hips in a silent request, and you lift them off the bed so that he can pull the denim down and over your legs.

Your panties follow close behind and you’re left bare in front of him.

“So pretty, baby, all of you” he says softly, breath fanning across your hip and his dark eyes meet your shy ones, your whole body flushing at his praise.

Your hands cover your face as he takes in your body beneath his, suddenly feeling insecure under his intense gaze.

“Hey, none of that, no hiding” he climbs up your body, moving your hands away from your face before brushing his lips over yours, “Please don’t ever hide from me, gorgeous”

He entwines his fingers with yours, placing a kiss to each of your knuckles before settling them beside you. Once he’s satisfied you won’t try and shy away from him again, he slides back down your body, kneeling on the carpet and settling in between your legs.

“Can I?” He hums against your thigh, and when he hears you let out a breathy ‘yes’ he leans forward, pressing a barely there kiss to your clit before licking up your entrance.

He works you up slowly, tongue moving skilfully through your folds and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, the vibrations travelling all over your body. Your head falls back and eyes flutter closed in bliss as he continues to lap at you.

His hand reaches up and takes one of yours, tangling your fingers and letting you squeeze and hold onto him as your body becomes overrun with pleasure.

“Fuck, Mase, feels so good. Don’t stop” you plead and his tongue dips into your entrance, nose nudging against your clit as he begins to eat you out like you’re his last meal.

Your free hand sinks into his hair, needing something else to hold onto as pleasure strikes up your spine, and a satisfied groan rumbles in his throat at the feeling of your hand in his hair.

You begin to squirm against him, struggling to stay still as he continues to suck and lap against you and he hooks his arm under your thigh, hand finding your hip in an attempt to keep you still.

“Shit - Mase - gonna make me cum” you whine and hold on to his hand a little harder.

“Come on, let go for me bubba, I’ve got you” his voice is so soft, so opposite to his actions as he suctions his lips around your clit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nub and that’s all it takes to have you crashing over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body thrashing against the mattress as Mason works you through it.

He soothes his tongue over you, working you through it until your whimpering in sensitivity, your hand weakly pushing at his head.

He removes his mouth from you, leaning back so that he can look up at you properly and he swears he’s never seen a more beautiful sight. You, sprawled out on the mattress, hair spread around you like halo, flush covering your cheeks as you smile down at him lazily.

You reach down, hand cupping his cheek and you use your thumb to swipe away a small drop of your cum from his chin before holding it against his lips.

“Taste incredible, baby” he hums around your thumb when he sucks it into his mouth, licking the drop from your fingertip.

He climbs back over you, lips finding yours in a soft kiss and you thread your fingers through his hair, revelling in the weight of his body against yours.

You allow yourself to bask in the brief moment of bliss, letting yourself regain composure after your orgasm.

But it’s not long until you get fidgety again, overcome with the need to touch him.

Your hand makes its way over his clothed shoulder, pushing slightly and you use all of your strength to roll him over, straddling his thighs as he relaxes back into the sheets.

“You’ve got way too many clothes on” you mumble and he chuckles against your lips, sitting up slightly to allow you to pull his shirt over his head.

His trousers are next to go, your fingers finding the button and you’re quick in undoing it, sliding the fabric down his legs with his boxers.

“Much better” you drawl and he lets out a whimper when you lightly scratch your nails across his stomach.

Your lips follow their path, paying special attention to all of his little moles and freckles as you kiss your way down his body, ignoring the area he wants you most to continue your trail down his thighs.

He sucks in a breath and you feel the muscles in his thighs clench when you graze his sensitive skin with your teeth, one of his hands tangling into your hair and tugging gently in an attempt to direct you towards where he needs you.

“Relax, bubba” you whisper against his skin, thumbs rubbing soothing circles and you feel him settle beneath you.

“Y/N, please. I need your mouth baby” he begs when he notices that mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Patience is a virtue Mase. You made me wait and I’m simply returning the favour. Now, hands off.” You smirk up at him and he groans in response, throwing his head back into the pillows.

His arms lays limp beside him, and he throws one over his face when you mumble a quick “good boy”, the praise going straight to his cock and you feel a sense of pride when you see it twitch out the corner of your eye.

Then he’s groaning out in frustration when your hands leave him completely so that you can get a little more comfortable between his legs.

One of your hands returns to his thigh, walking your fingers up his skin slowly and he jolts when you finally touch him, length twitching when you run your fingertip along the underside. Not using enough pressure for him to really feel it, but enough to drive him mad.

Your other hand joins and wraps around his base when you reach his tip, smearing the pre cum that’s collected and he lets out a desperate whimper when he feels your thumb rubbing over his slit.

He feels thick and heavy in your palms when you stack your hand on top of the other and twist them slowly, applying a little more pressure and watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, both of his hands clutching the bed sheets in an attempt to not touch you.

“Feel good, Masey?” you coo and he nods his head quickly, unable to form a coherent sentence as his eyes pop open again, just in time to see you lowering your head.

You wrap your lips around his head, your tongue flicking over his slit and you pull your hands away, bracing them on his thighs as you move your mouth further down his length.

You go as far down as you can, and he hisses at the sensation of his tip hitting the back of your throat before you’re pulling back up.

The moan that leaves his lips has butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“Fuck Angel, feels so good, you’re so - oh fucking hell” he moans and you flutter your eyes open, finding his already on you, blown out pupils staring down at you.

You continue to bob your head, hand coming up to work what you can’t fit inside of your mouth and your fingers and lips work in perfect sync.

When your other hand begins fondling with his balls he can’t help it anymore and his hand goes flying to the back of your head.

You let it slide, gazing up at him through your lashes and by the look on his face and the noises leaving his lips, you can tell he’s in heaven.

“I-I’m close,” he moans, fingers tangling into your hair “gonna cum y/n, oh my god” he pants out as you relax your jaw, taking as much of him as you can until your gagging around him.

“Come for me, Mase” you breath out and with a final twist of your hand, he’s cuming into your mouth.

You swallow all of him, working him through his high and when his hips start bucking up out of sensitivity, you leave one final kiss to his tip before pulling off of him.

“Holy shit, y/n, you’re so good at that” he laughs, scrubbing a hand over his flushed face before reaching out for you.

You settle on top of him, feeling his heart beating where your chest presses against his and you leave a series of kisses up his collar bones, making your way up his neck and to his lips.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth and when he tastes himself on your own, he lets out a content sigh.

You stay like that for a few minuets, enjoying the calmness of the moment before you feel him hardening again against your thigh.

You giggle as he hides his face in your neck in embarrassment.

“You okay there?”

“Need to be inside you, angel” he speaks into your neck, neediness evident in his voice.

“I’m all yours, love” you send him a cheeky smile, rolling onto your back when he nudges your shoulder and he crawls on top of you.

His fingers fiddle with your bra, pulling the strap back before letting it snap back into place.

“Let’s get this off” he mumbles and you sit up slightly, allowing him to reach around and unhook your bra.

He pulls the straps down your arm, throwing it somewhere behind him and you watch as his pupils dilate at the sight of you completely bare in front of him.

His lips make their way down your chest, and he speaks between kisses.

“So” kiss, “fucking” kiss, “gorgeous” kiss.

The last kiss lands right next to your left nipple and he doesn’t hesitate to shift slightly, lips leaving an open mouthed kiss to the hardened nub.

He brings his hand up, thumb stroking over the neglected nipple and you arch your back in desperation.

“Mason, need you, please baby” you moan breathlessly, and you here him chuckle against your skin.

“You’ve got me baby,” he whispers right next to your ear, leaving a kiss to your cheek as he spreads your legs a little wider and settles between them.

“You ready, bub?” he asks softly and your lips tug up into a smile.

You cup his cheek and lock your eyes onto his, “Yeah, baby. Want to feel you.”

He nods, nudging his nose against yours as he braces one hand beside your head, the other guiding himself between your folds.

Your hand lands on the back of his neck when you feel him sliding into you slowly, wincing at the slight stretch you feel after not being with him like this for a while.

“You okay?” He asks, voice full of concern when he sees the slight look of discomfort on your face.

You meet his worried eyes, nodding in reassurance. “Yeah bub, just go slow please”

“Of course,” he pushes his hips forward, making sure to be gentle whilst he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“Let me know when I’m okay to move” his thumb brushes in tender motions over your hip, attempting to sooth any discomfort you may be feeling.

You stay like that for a few moments, his head hidden away in your neck, brushing gentle kisses against your skin whilst he gives you all the time you need to adjust to him.

You slide your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly to get him to look at you.

“You can move, Mase” you whisper when his eyes meet yours.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, forehead resting against yours and you moan out in unison when he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

He keeps his pace slow, swearing under his breath and digging his teeth into his bottom lip at the feeling of your plush walls surrounding him.

“Missed this so much Angel” his raspy voice is barely audible when he speaks against your lips.

All you can do is nod, unable to find your voice when he picks up his pace but wanting him to know you missed it too.

His warm palms slide up the back of your thighs, finding the curve of your bum before hooking your legs around his waist.

The new angle allows him to to reach much deeper and you feel a bolt of pleasure shoot up your spine when he brushes that special spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Mase. So good” you whimper out, hand finding his shoulder and your holding on so hard that your sure you’ll find little crescent shaped marks there later.

His face finds home in your neck, thrusts faltering slightly when he feels your silky walls clench around him.

“Oh my god, Angel. Going to make me cum already” he stutters, slightly embarrassed at how quickly he’s approaching his second orgasm of the night.

Little does he know, you’re just as close. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“I’m there with you, bub” you move your hips up in time with his, cupping his cheek to move his face from your neck.

You meet his eyes and the sight of him on top of you is almost too much. His hair tousled from your fingers, cheeks flushed and lips swollen as he continues thrusting into you at a brisk pace.

His hand grips at your hip a little tighter and the other grabs your free hand, fingers tangling with yours as he brings them up to rest next to your head.

“Fucking hell, y/n. So tight” he grunts and you let out a string of curse words when you feel your orgasm barrelling towards you.

“Gonna cum, Mase” you sob, eyes squeezing closed as he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“I’ve got you, bubba, let go for me” he rasps close to your ear.

And that’s exactly what you do. Moaning out as he hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him as your orgasm hits you like a wave.

Your high is overwhelming, the sound of his voice and moans the only thing you can focus on as your body is overcome with pleasure, the feeling rippling through you leaving you breathless.

Your walls constricting around him is what sends him over the edge, his whimpers are muffled in your neck, his body collapsing on top of yours as he hits his own orgasm.

He keeps himself buried inside of you as you both come down from your highs. Your fingers scratching over his neck and back as he slumps on top of you, completely spent.

Neither of you make the effort to move for a while, and he stays buried inside of you whilst you bask in the serenity of the moment. Your heart rates and breathing slowly returning to normal.

He groans when he eventually pulls out of you, head dropping to your shoulder and you brush a series of kisses over his temple.

“You feel up for showering bubba?” He asks softly, fingers brushing your hair out of your face as he looks down at you lovingly.

You send him a soft smile, nodding lazily and you let him scoop you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you through to the en-suit bathroom.

He switches the bathroom light on, immediately dimming it when you wince from the brightness before he sets you down on the counter.

A kiss is brushed against your temple and then he’s turning around, turning the shower on and making sure it’s the right temperature.

You catch his eyes widening slightly when he turns back to you. “What? Is something wrong?” you ask, slightly alarmed by his expression but his face softens as soon as he hears your voice.

“No Angel, nothing wrong. Let’s just say, it’s a good job we’ve got no plans tomorrow” he chuckles, thumb brushing over your neck and all of your confusion goes away when you turn and look into the mirror.

There’s a dark bruise standing out against your skin, a few lighter ones littered across your chest.

“You really went for it, huh?”

“Sorry” he shrugs, not really looking sorry at all.

“No you’re not”

“Nope, not one bit”

You turn back to him, slapping his chest with the back of your hand playfully before he’s helping you down from the counter and guiding you into the shower.

Your body slumps into his when he comes up in front of you. His arms wrap around your waist in a hug and his head finds home in your neck as the water cascades over you.

“love you” his voice is muffled against your skin but you hear him loud and clear, your heart fluttering at the simple phrase.

“Love you too, Masey”

You bring your hand up to the back of his head, fingers running through his damp hair and scratching over his scalp and you feel his chest vibrating against yours when he hums in content.

He steps back and takes your body wash from the little shelf, the familiar citrusy scent engulfing you as he squirts some into his palm, lathering it up before massaging it into your skin.

He pays extra attention to your hips and thighs, helping to sooth the aching skin with his thumbs before shuffling so that you’re both under the water again.

He helps you rinse off, letting you clean him up as well before stepping out of the shower in front of you.

He wraps his own towel around his waist and then takes yours from the heated towel rack, holding it out for you to step into.

When you step out of the shower, his arms are immediately circling you again, wrapping you up in the warm towel as pulls you against his chest.

“Someone’s clingy” you utter, looking up at him through your lashes and if he blushes, you can’t tell. The heat from the shower already leaving his cheeks a little flushed.

“Can’t help it, just want to hold my girl” his confession makes your heart warm and you smile up at him softly.

“How about you go and get into bed, I won’t be long and then you can hold me all night” you suggest, the idea sounding more than appealing.

“I’ll get some pj’s ready for you” he says, pressing his lips to your temple before leaving the bathroom so you can finish getting ready for bed.

Your quick in finishing up your skin care routine, not bothering with any extra serums tonight, the thought of him waiting in bed for you being way more appealing than the idea of standing in this bathroom for even a minute longer.

You switch the bathroom light off and enter the much softer atmosphere of the bedroom. Mase is already tucked up in bed waiting for you, looking all cozy and snug under the duvet.

Some fresh panties and one of his shirts sit a neat pile at the end of the bed and you quickly pull them on, throwing your towel into the laundry basket before climbing into bed next to him.

“Feeling okay, bubba?”

“I need to watch you play golf more often” you giggle, settling into bed next to him.

“Oh, definitely” he sighs, hooking an arm over your waist and sliding you closer to him.

“Seriously though, thank you for coming with me today, I know we’ve technically still seen each other everyday but I really have missed you the last couple of weeks” he speaks shyly, and you can just about make out the blush littering his cheeks in the warm light.

“I missed you too,” you lean up and meet his eyes, “so much”

His hand goes to the back of your neck when you lean in to kiss him. It’s slow, calm and loving as he works his lips against yours carefully.

You rest your head again his bare chest when you pull away, snuggling into him and relaxing completely against his body as he reaches over and switches the lamp off.

The room is engulfed in darkness as he shuffles around a little, getting comfy before settling his arms around you.

“Good night, my love” is the last thing he says to you, and you just about manage a quiet ‘good night’ back before you’re drifting off to sleep, Mase not far behind as you both fall into the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

———————

Hope you enjoyed 😚 feedback appreciated as always 🩷🫶🏻

#mason mount imagine #mason mount concepts #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount fic

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kamotecue · 8 months

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part four: as the only heiress to the throne, you had your royal duties, that meant you meeting with the lionesses ahead of the world cup.

part one | part two | part three

you sighed as scorpius drove to st. george’s park, it was the last thing on your schedule for the day. your father wanted you to greet and wish the best with the 2023 world cup approaching.

you were literally stuck with media duties, something you quite hated. it was the way the press would turn something around, which well annoyed you. as the car pulled up you saw sarina weigman, the lionesses’s head coach.

“i’m nervous.” you stated, as scorpius chuckled.

“the great y/n, nervous? social anxiety should be afraid.” scorpius joked, as you jokingly glared at him.

“it’s not like i’m dating their captain, i only met three of them. what if the rest of the team don’t like me?” you asked, as scorpius looked at you.

“they’ll love you, besides who could ever hate you.” scorpius said, as you laughed. a lot of people could, you thought.

the car came to a stop, as scorpius killed the engine before heading out to open your door. as your door opened, you stepped out confidently, shaking hands with the dutch manager as she gave you a small smile.

“it’s an honor, your highness.” sarina said, as you nodded.

“the pleasures all mine.” you walked in with sarina, scorpius following behind, always five feet apart. you were lead to a dining area where the lionesses had settled, a few taking a glimpse at you.

the coaching staff were at their designated table, while you joined the table of ella toone who sat with alessia russo, esme morgan, ellie roebuck and mary earps.

“are you really dating our skipper?” ella asked, in disbelief as alessia gently slapped ella’s arm to which you laughed at.

“yes, i am dating leah. is it that much of a shock?” you asked, as ella shrugged.

“you are the crown princess, while our skipper is well—just leah.” ella said, a bit loud making you wince as a few stopped to look at your table.

“just leah was the one i fell in love with, the seven year old that i met on the football pitch.” alessia gave you a soft smile; happy that their skipper had someone to love.

“what do you love about leah?” mary asked, as you gave her a contented smile.

“a lot, really. when we were kids, and i’d meet her on the pitch she’d bring me flowers ‘just because’. or how much she cares about this team, how she loves football, how serious she is. or how blue her eyes are.” you said, as keira gave you a nod of approval.

“has she taught you football?” ellie asked, as you nodded.

“when we were kids, and i’d meet leah on the pitch where we would play soccer. she’s taught me everything i know. she’d also let me borrow a pair of her boots, as we had the same shoe size.” ellie gushed at how cute it was.

“can you tell us more stories?” esme asked as you nodded.

“i had to play goal keeper, just to block lee’s shots. there was this one time, the ball had hit my face. leah rushed to me to check if i had broken anything, or if my nose was bleeding. let’s just say, she scared scorpius.” alessia laughed.

“scorpius?” esme asked as scorpius moved from his position, giving her a small smile.

“my bodyguard.” as you introduced him to the team, he went back to his original position.

“if you weren’t a princess, what job would you take?” keira asked, from the other table.

“well, i am majoring in physiotherapy. after that, i’d enter med school, and graduate.” as keira looked at you in shock.

“i always wanted to do more research, on why it’s more common for females to tear their acl.” you said, stunning those who heard your conversation.

“interesting, leah’s got a keeper.” mary said, as she winked. i laughed at her joke.

“quite literally, i joined a youth team as a goal keeper.” you said, as they looked at you with wide eyes.

“however i only played for about 4 years? before quitting.” ella looked at you in shock, mary was proud another goal keeper.

“i heard there’s a foosball table, would you join me in a game?” rachel asked as she passed by to which you nodded to.

yet here you were absolutely crushing the daly-bright duo, georgia was your partner.

“you’re good at foosball too.” rachel said as the game came to an end.

“what can i say, i’m great at many things.” you said, as you’ve taken lessons in a few instruments, played various sports, and etc.

“well, i believe it’s time for us to go, my lady. you have a date with ms. williamson.” scorpius said, as you flushed.

“can we stop and get flowers?” you asked, as scorpius nodded. keira definitely approved of you, it was cute, your relationship with leah.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc imagine

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photo1030 · 8 months

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Leather and Lace - Chapter 18: Feelings Revealed

Part 4 - SEE ME, FEEL ME, TOUCH ME, HEAL ME

Summary: You and Arthur finally have your first night together.

Warning: 18+ please, Minors - DNI; This is a long one, too.

*I had another title for this, but as I was listening to The Who, this lyric began to play as I was editing and it just seemed to fit this chapter perfectly.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

*These are NOT my images. However, I have seen them in multiple versions and on multiple sources. So I don't know who the owners are to credit. But if anyone knows, let me know.

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola @kmartkiddieisle @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic @rhehr241 @earwen-x @akariver75 @djennty @nervousmumbling @xliliths @unbotheredbeeeee @onnetonprinsessa @kittiowolf210 @ezrynn @suhiss @arthurmargon @codnerd1999 @queer-sadie-adler @alice-vanderlinde @sweetandstoned21 @j4llyf7sh @spooky631 @m0r4rx @ilovrxats @i-69-urmom @ddbluesie @ivuravix @nervousmumbling @sickvictorianangel @tirededuxhours @ezzythereal1 @chloepluto1306 @ivys-valentine @spiritcatcherxo

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.

Arthur gets a small fire going outside the lean-to hunting shelter. The fire burns a deep red and vibrant yellow as the flames lick up around the logs. It’s a soft and comforting sight, the popping and crackling of the wood drowning out all other sounds in the forest this evening. The sky is deepening to a majestic royal purple hue, with its diamond-glittering stars emerging like a crown. The glow of the fire casts its light only upon your little shelter and the immediate area surrounding it as if protecting you inside of an intimate little sphere made just for the two of you.

With his task complete, Arthur moves into the shelter and sits down on the ground, nervously wiping his hands on the sides of his pants as he looks over and watches as you flit about to fix the make-shift bedding. You’ve rolled out his bedroll and fanned out a blanket overtop. You’ve even taken off your jacket, rolling it into a pillow of sorts and tucking it under the other fabrics.

Part of your fidgeting is because you want everything to be perfect. The other part is because you are so nervous. Although, you are not really sure why. Arthur is the one person in the world who you feel the most comfortable and safe with. And yet, with all of the previous restrictions and obstacles now removed, you almost feel more vulnerable than ever.

When you finish fidgeting with the bedroll and blanket, you turn and look down at him, meeting his gaze with a shy smile gracing your features. You nervously bite your bottom lip as you hesitate for just a moment before you hike up your skirts. Loosely balling the cotton into your hands to show just the slightest amount of your calves, you move to sit on Arthur’s lap. And straddling his hips so that you can face him, you slowly lower yourself down on top of his folded legs.

He tentatively sets his hands on your hips to help guide you down. Your hands come to rest upon the sides of his neck and shoulders for support, but you leave them there for a few moments after you settle, the muscle and bulk of his body keenly radiating through your fingertips.

Arthur’s hands carefully come up around your neck, his long fingers stretching around to the back and into your hair as his thumbs brush against your chin. He cradles your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you in years, because now he sees you in a whole new light, more radiant and precious to him than ever before.

You and Arthur simply sit and stare at each other with no words spoken, neither of you sure where to even begin. And yet the anticipation is epic. The comforting silence that encompasses the air is like that that follows the rain. The soft crackling of the fire just outside the shelter is the only sound you hear besides your measured breathing.

Excitement fills your mind as you cannot believe that this is finally happening. But suddenly, you have the fear that Arthur is going to change his mind about this whole thing; that he’s going to get up and bolt from you. Now that you are actually here alone together, you are filled with insecurity. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? You are not the prettiest girl in camp. What if you're too forward? What if you're not forward enough? (He is an outlaw after all.)

But your whole internal struggle is ridiculous, because Arthur is having the same exact conversation with himself in his own mind right now. He’s ugly. He’s riddled with scars and calluses. He’s older than you, too. And, he is not a good man.

But what neither of you realize is that despite how broken you both are, you are exactly what the other wants and needs.

His hands release your face, smoothing down over your shoulders and arms to now rest gingerly on your upper thighs. Arthur’s mind races as he stares at you perched so perfectly upon his lap, right where he’s always wanted you. He wrestles with his self-doubt, but in contrast, he also has to deal with his own heated desires. He's wanted you for so, so long. It is all he can do to restrain himself from throwing you down and roughly taking you here and now.

But eventually, your hand lifts and moves slowly like a butterfly hovering in the air to lay across his cheek. His skin is warm and his beard stubble tickles the palm of your hand. Arthur slowly closes his eyes the moment your fingers graze his skin. He slightly leans into your hand as he places his own massive one overtop of yours to hold it in place, basking in the tenderness found there. It is like a gift that he’s rarely received in his life, and his reaction to your simple gesture almost makes your heart break for him.

Your fingers soon leave his face and proceed to his neck to pull at the knot of his neckerchief which quickly comes off and gets tossed to the side. Then your thumbs gracefully hook under his suspenders to lower them down off his broad shoulders. Although your movements are fluid like water, you can feel Arthur’s whole body begin to stiffen a bit in apprehension under you.

With the suspenders out of the way, you drift back up to the collar of his shirt, hesitating but just for a moment. You slowly begin to unbutton, working the fasteners back through the holes with slightly shaking fingers. Your eyes follow the trail of your fingers, but Arthur’s gaze never leaves your face, watching you so intently as you work. The glow of the fire outside warms your skin and causes copper flecks to dance in your eyes. He takes note how your breathing has become a bit faster, yet shallow. He’s not sure if it is from nervousness or second thoughts.

When you get to the last button at his waistline your hands float up again, resembling the wingspan of a dove, and tuck under the collar. You slowly push the worn cotton fabric back and off of Arthur’s massive shoulders. Your fingertips trace along the thick sinewy muscles of his arms as you continue to push the fabric down to reveal more of his skin to you. The cool air nips at his skin the moment it is exposed. However, it’s a welcoming sensation to wake him up and anchor him to the present before he drifts off entirely and loses himself.

Once freed from the garment, your fingertips retrace their path, dancing back up along Arthur’s arms again until they find his shoulders. They continue to explore along his strong neck and move back up to cradle his jawline, until you are holding his handsome face in your hands once more. You pull Arthur in to you for another kiss; slow, deep and passionate. You close your eyes, savoring the taste of his lips. This kiss, just this simple kiss is all it takes for your heart to lose its balance. And all you want to do is fall.

Arthur’s hands suddenly leave your hips to clutch at your back hungrily while you kiss. He pulls at the bottom of your blouse, lifting it up enough so that he can place his hand onto the bare skin of your lower back, which is softer than he could’ve imagined.

You lean back from him just enough to catch your breath, reluctant to break the kiss, and take the opportunity to pull your blouse and chemise over your head and toss it to the side, leaving yourself now chest bare before Arthur. The movement causes your hair to ruffle, the locks falling softly like fire ash in the wind to frame your face.

Arthur blinks a few times and locks onto your eyes, as if testing if his are allowed to roam. At this precarious little moment, he is literally standing on the precipice of no return, and happily waiting to plunge over the side and into your arms.

Your soft smile gives him permission to explore and Arthur swallows thickly as he lets his gaze draw down your face and over your delicate throat, where he catches the skin flicker as you swallow and your pulse quickens. His eyes continue to float down across the delicate curve of your clavicle, until finally landing on your breasts. You watch his reaction closely, noticing his breath hitch slightly as you feel his body shift underneath you.

Arthur sits motionless, taking in the sight and taking time to appreciate the sheer beauty before him. He has waited and prayed for this moment and he wants not a second of it to be rushed. You reach down and collect his left hand into both of your own and bring it to your lips to softly kiss his dirt-stained knuckles before placing his hand on your right breast, closing his thick fingers around it. A soft puff of air huffs out of his nose at the intimate contact. Arthur draws his thumb across the bud of your nipple and gently squeezes the flesh, amazed at how supple it is.

You slowly remove your left hand from his and reach to set it upon his firm chest, trailing your fingers through the soft curls of golden-brown hair that is scattered across his body. You start at his collarbone and drift downward before placing your small, delicate palm directly over his heart.

"I can feel your heartbeat." You smile, pausing to experience the fluttering under your fingertips. "Can you feel mine?" you innocently ask him, staring at him with wide and hopeful eyes. You look at Arthur as if he is so special, so wondrous, that the feeling seems so foreign to him; almost as if it actually hurts him to be gazed upon so intensely like this. But it is not so much as the way you look at him, but how you can’t bring yourself to look at anything else.

“I feel your heart, your breath, your skin, your hair," he rambles as he gently pulls at a lock. "…everything.”

The poor man is so overwhelmed. All of his senses are saturated: seeing you perched on his lap so close that he can count the freckles on your cheeks, your honeyed voice and soft giggles of excitement ringing in his ears. He can taste you on his lips as you kiss.

And the kisses… dear God, you have lips so soft yet firm that they draw the very breath from his lungs. The feeling of your tongues rolling over each other is heavenly. But it’s your touch that does him in. When you caress Arthur’s tired face, or run your hand along his strong and burdened shoulders, he sweetly shudders beneath you.

It's been a long time since Arthur has done this; has allowed someone else to touch him in this way. Sure, there were Mary and Eliza, with the occasional working girl for the dire release, but those instances were far and few between. But Arthur has cut himself off for so long that he can’t even remember the last time he was touched like this. He can't even stand to look at himself, how could he manage to let a woman see him in this state?

Touch starved doesn’t even begin to describe it. And Arthur didn't notice how bad it was until the moment you ran your fingers along his bare arms and chest, your fingers caressing his face. Or, maybe it is just that it is specifically you touching him that is driving him crazy with desire right now.

You eventually begin to explore his body, and trace your fingers along several scars in particular along his chest, arms, and torso, mesmerized by them. Some are larger than others. Some are less angry-looking as time has healed them. But all show the contrast between an old wound and the tanned skin they bury into.

Being self conscious, Arthur instantly stiffens and tries not to instinctively recoil from you as your attention focuses on his scars. You don't pull back in revulsion as he had expected you to. But you simply stare and curiously run your finger over each one that you can find, like studying the fine thread work of a tapestry, and wondering how it got there.

"I know I ain’t much to look at for you," Arthur mutters lowly and embarrassed.

The comment causes you to look up into his eyes with a twinkle in your own before you lean over and softly begin to kiss each scar that you can reach with your lips. Each patch of hardened tissue is a target of your divine attention. The gesture catches Arthur off-guard and his eyes roll shut with a sigh at the feeling of your delicate lips on his damaged skin.

After a few moments of sweetly-delivered kisses, you sit up to look him in the eye again. "Your scars aren’t ugly, Arthur. They tell your story.” Your voice is an angelic whisper, both light-hearted and earnest at the same time; almost childlike in its wonderment. “They are a testament to how strong you really are, and of all of the things you’ve been through. Others would have crumbled under half the weight you’ve had to endure. You're like a tree; strong and weathered, and where everyone takes refuge."

Your hands dance along his chest again until your index finger lands on one scar in particular that is about three inches from his heart. Your face turns dark for a second, your brows furrowed at the thought of the glaring hardship that he unquestioningly assumes on behalf of everyone else that he cares for.

"You take the brunt of the storm while everyone is protected by you, Arthur." You gaze at him from under your thick lashes with a look of concern that darkens your once-bright face, worried about his well-being.

“Yeah, I’m rough and gnarled like an ol’ oak tree”, he sighs with a sad little self-deprecating grin as his fingertips drum nervously on your back.

The effervescent giggle that bubbles from your lips at his statement is music to his ears as that grin of yours that Arthur loves so much blooms across your cheeks.

“Yes, you’re rough, I’ll give you that,” you chuckle in agreement. “But, also like an old oak tree, every once in awhile, Arthur, you show the most magnificent colors.” The demure little smile that graces your face is enough to make Arthur’s heart stop.

He’s not used to this. He’s been denied attention for so long. Which is ironic, as all you want to do is touch him: run your fingers along his face, draw your leg along his, push yourself up against his bare chest. It's hard for you to imagine anyone ever thinking Arthur is not enough as he is all that you ever seem to think about.

Arthur pulls you to him again for more kisses which you happily reciprocate. The more you touch each other, the more the two of you relax and let go of the inhibitions and hesitations; the comfort settling upon you two like a warm blanket. Your kisses quickly lead to tight embraces, holding each other so close that it's possible that a rib may crack. Heavy breathing and gentle, needy moaning begins to fill the quiet night air.

Getting bolder, Arthur places hot, wet lips along your jawline, down your neck and over your collarbone, getting more and more greedy as your chin gently drops back to grant him access to the sensitive skin underneath. A contented sigh pulls from your slightly gaped mouth as his tongue darts out to leave trails along that soft spot on your chest above your breasts. Your arms affectionately cradle his head to you as your fingers comb through the amber-colored locks of his hair that are forever-embedded with faint hints of woodsmoke.

It is such a blissful moment as you feel each other wrapped in the other’s arms, held so close that every inch of you is heightened and yearning for more.

Arthur eventually rolls you to lay you down, his own body pinning the side of yours to the ground. Your leg lifts to intertwine with his as your arms slot under his own like a puzzle piece as he deepens the passion with hungry lips and curious hands. Closing your eyes only enhances the extension of his touch as he continues. Everywhere Arthur’s fingers and lips graze, the sensation bursts forth to travel the entire scope of your body.

He eventually sits up on his knees, straddling your right leg, to pull at the strings of your skirt. He’s trying not to get impatient when his giant fingers fumble with the ties. But quick enough, the waistline comes loose and Arthur’s fingers hook underneath and slowly pull the fabric back to expose your hips, and all their glory in between, before showcasing your legs.

Arthur’s hand comes up to cover his mouth in awe as he takes in the sight of you lying naked beneath him. Slightly embarrassed under his heated gazed, you instinctively pull your legs up a bit, curling in on yourself like a potato bug to try to hide from the exposure. Upon seeing your reaction, Arthur gives you a reassuring smile and leans overtop of you to protectively shield you from the world outside the shelter. His hand caresses your face, a gesture so gentle that belies his gruff exterior.

“You are so beautiful, you know that?” he whispers to you, kissing your temple. But Arthur’s compliment only makes your cheeks turn as red as the fire outside as you hide your face into his bare chest.

“Stop it”, you mumble into his muscles, self-conscious of his praise.

“Oh, so it's okay for you to say nice things, but not me?” he teases with that gruff baritone voice. “I see how it's gonna be.”

“You deserve to hear it more than I do.” Your voice is small and humble, averting your eyes from his as you roll your fingertips around his chest hair.

“Bullshit. If that ain’t the biggest lie I ever heard…”, his nose nudging against yours before encompassing your mouth with his own again.

Arthur carefully moves to crawl completely over you. Both of you are shaking slightly, but it's not from the chill night air. His movements are slow at first, terrified of hurting you physically or offending you with his pent up lust. His hands begin to roam more freely over your skin, which is softer than he ever dreamed.

Now that he finally has you, Arthur is eager to see every bit of you. His lips kiss over the faint lines and stretch marks that occasionally decorate your skin. His fingertips trace them first as he discovers every bit of you. His attention eventually lands on the soft swell of your breasts, which he caresses before clamping his hot mouth over the nipple, his tongue flicking and swirling over the highly-sensitive skin. You softly hum as your hands find their way to come up again to finger through his hair, your nails dragging slightly across his scalp before lightly grabbing onto the thick waves.

Your image, your shape, gets burned into Arthur’s brain as he continues his line of kisses and fingertrails all over your body: every curve, every freckle, even the soft roll of your stomach and hips. Everywhere Arthur touches makes you melt, as his hands are hot like the sun from his own want mixed with his nervousness.

Your heat is so sensitive as his hand carefully drops to caress it, causing you to jump slightly with a whimper. His fingertips linger around your soft mound until they dance along the delicate folds, already slick with want as you buck slightly into his hand, panting hotly into his mouth. His face now hovers so close to yours, close enough for his eyelashes to tickle your skin, as he gently slips a digit into you. Your spine arches back at the sensation of it, a breathless moan escaping your kiss-swollen lips and your toes begin to curl in pleasure.

Arthur watches your reaction carefully as he pumps his finger into you. Your eyes roll back as your chin lifts, your mouth sharply sucking in air. Your hand desperately reaches out to grasp his bicep with desire. Your eyes open again to meet his gaze, burning into each other with such intensity. His hand moves faster, adding a second digit now, and curls them to rub that certain spot so perfectly. The sensation draws the most beautiful moan from your lips. It is a sound that almost makes Arthur weep.

Suddenly, the realization of what’s about to happen hits him. What if he’s not good enough? What if you reject him after this? What if he hurts you? What if this ruins the one good thing he has in his life? Arthur pauses in his worship of you, retracting from between your legs for a moment. His hand graces over your forehead as his thumb lingers at the corner of your eyebrow.

“Are you sure this is what you want, (Y/N)?” His eyes crease with concern as he searches yours, not 100% sure if he should continue. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

But you are getting restless. You’ve been pushed to the limit in body, mind, and soul by this man and it is time to put an end to your longing. You cup Arthur’s face again with a look of seriousness settling across your features as you are afraid that maybe he is having second thoughts after all.

Your (y/e/c) eyes burn into his with such intensity and longing. “I only want you, Arthur. Of that, I am certain.”

Arthur inhales deeply, weighing the possible consequences. “If this is too much, you need to tell me. Promise?”

You lift up slightly and give him a chaste kiss upon his plump lips. “I promise.”

Giving a faint smile in acceptance, Arthur pulls away from you. He carefully stands up again, stooping slightly in the small shelter, and begins to unbuckle his pants. With no union suit on today, his remaining layers of clothing are quick to come off. His hardened cock springs forth from its confines as he bends to shuck the pants and boots from his legs.

You watch him intently, taking in the vision of him. Arthur truly is a beautiful specimen of a man. You have patched him up multiple times after jobs and fights, and of course there was that time when you accidentally stumbled upon him bathing in the river, so you have seen him before. But now you are free to observe his body, to truly take in the sight of him and appreciate the man standing before you.

Of course, he is muscular, his arms and thighs thick from years of hard labor. His entire body is littered with hair, but not in an unpleasant way. Now that he is completely naked in front of you, even more scars are made known to you. You notice old knife wounds on his thighs and an old white scar creeping up along his shin. He almost resembles a ragdoll, one that is tattered and has been stitched back together over time.

Arthur tosses his pants to the side and looks down at you, hesitating when he notices how keenly you gaze at him. Seeing his look of concern, you sit up to run your hands up his thighs and reach over his abdomen, making the mental note of how his bodyhair trials downward towards the V between his legs. When your face tilts upwards towards his, he leans in for another impassioned kiss before gently pushing you back down and settling himself between your legs.

Arthur shifts between your hips, getting his knees and elbow set. Caging you underneath him, he begins to rock back and forth causing his whole body to rub against yours. The rhythmic motion lulls you into a relaxed state like no other. You can feel his cock beginning to twitch as it pushes against your heat as if begging for attention. You hear him hiss slightly under his breath, fighting to keep his composure before he loses all self control. The sound makes you moan and mewl on your own accord.

Finally, it’s at the point where Arthur just can’t wait any longer, and neither can you by the way you're grasping and whining at him. He reaches down between you to line himself up and pushes himself into you so gently. Your hand immediately shoots out to his shoulder, bracing yourself. He's well-endowed between his legs and he knows it. Your eyes meet his, holding his gaze as he stretches you so wonderfully below, causing you to lightly gasp. He watches your face as you wince slightly, letting out a brief whimper as he pushes. He's trying to be so mindful of your comfort, knowing he's going to fully bury himself into you to the hilt.

"You alright?" Arthur cautiously asks as he grabs and hooks his arm under your leg, lifting it up and over his hip to open you up more to him.

"Yes", you pant out, smiling sweetly and lifting your face up to kiss him gently again. He takes a brief moment to get himself adjusted and then begins to move, causing your breathing to be heavy in his ear. He pushes his cock all the way into you, grunting at the heavenly sensation of it, before retracting again. He moves so slowly at first, but then begins to move at a steady pace. The experience is so utterly amazing to you both as you can feel every inch of each other in the most intimate of ways.

He begins to pump himself in and out as your whole body moves with him. You hook your arm around Arthur’s wide shoulders and neck while the other hand has a tight grasp onto his bicep, fingers digging into the muscles there. After a few moments, he wants to ask again if you're okay, but when your mouth falls open and he hears the words, "damn, Arthur" whispered into his ear, he knows his answer.

But you can still see the apprehension in Arthur’s face; feel it in his fingers as he touches you. He buries his face into your neck and holds you so tightly as his hips find their place in a steady rhythm between yours. Yet Arthur is still so hesitant, still holding back from you as if nervous.

"Arthur…I need you," your whisper to him barely audible.

“You're sure about this?” he asks again, lifting his face from your neck to look into yours. “I mean, I really don’t want to hurt you, (Y/N), after everything and all.” Arthur sweetly searches for any misgivings, for any sign that you are not ready for this next step.

“I want all of you, Arthur," your voice yearning with desire as you cup his face again. You are so touched that this sometimes-brutal man can be so careful with you, especially in this situation. "It’s okay. I’m tougher than you think." You give him a little nod as his favorite little smile graces your lips once more.

And just like that, that confirmation is all that Arthur needs as he suddenly crashes into your lips, hot and all consuming this time. His thrusts instantly become deep and steady as his hips begin to snap sharply into yours with the ferocity of a caged beast that has been released back into the wild. And you gasp in the most satisfied way as you give in to him.

“That’s it,” you pant, praising him as you wrap your one leg around his waist to pull him deeper into you, while using the other to stabilize yourself against his force and push yourself up to receive him.

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to give in to his long-denied desires and lose himself completely, drowning in his senses. He didn’t realize just how empty his soul was until you were there to fill it again. And you are more than happy to be the one to provide that comfort to him. It’s the simplest, yet most selfless thing that you could offer him with your humble existence.

Arthur used to think that he just wanted to disappear sometimes, to get lost from everyone and everything in the world. But what he realizes is that all he’s ever wanted was to be truly found. And clinging to him, you are just as desperate as Arthur is. Loneliness isn’t something just for an outlaw. You wrap yourself up into him, into his arms, against his barrel chest which is heaving and trying to catch the air for the lungs within as he moves faster and faster on top of you.

“Don’t let me go." Your plea wafts into his ear as tears form in the corners of your eyes as the weight of everything that you've been through and everything you've been waiting for, finally comes to a culmination.

”Never” is all he manages to murmur in response, not even sure if you hear him.

The feeling of Arthur on top of you, of him inside of you, is so wonderfully overwhelming and electric. The fullness of him inside you, his rough hands on your skin, his soft lips nipping at your jawline, and his hot breath on your neck, it’s all as if lightning has hit you and is traveling throughout your entire body. Your skin is buzzing with the exquisite sensation, acutely aware of even his chest hair as it drags and rubs against your sensitive breasts as he moves.

Arthur grabs onto your hip again, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh there. There will be slight bruising there for sure later, but neither of you are in any frame of mind to acknowledge or care right now. His cock continues to ram into you, hitting the back of your walls as his girth stretches you so wonderfully. His thrusts are sharp and hard, more desperate than harsh, chasing you, as if you’ll vanish from him in moments like the sun burning the morning fog away.

It is a good thing that your first time together is out and away from anyone else in camp. It gives you both the opportunity to explore and appreciate each other properly. But it also allows you to be free and unrestricted, as the sounds of your lovemaking burst forth in waves of moaning, squeals, and grunting, only getting louder and louder with each cascading wave of building ecstasy.

Looking down at you, Arthur never thought he’d see you like this: flushed and pupils blown, your mouth fallen open and making the most incredible noises in his ear. In all the time he's watched you from afar and sketched your image to keep privately for himself, Arthur never dreamed it could be like this. He looks down at himself pounding into you, watching how your body shudders with each stroke. Like a musician playing a fiddle, you move and moan with his fingers. Your chest heaves while your back arches at an almost inhuman angle, desperate to receive more of him. It makes him want you even more. It's crazy how your body responds in perfect union to his. Every time you moan his name in broken syllables and wanton whispers, Arthur shudders and groans even more as it is a confirmation that you are really here for him and only him. And like a selfish child, he wants you all to himself.

The two of you form a beautifully ungraceful knot of limbs and noises, hard to tell where one of you begins and the other ends. Arthur rocks into your hips like a wave on the ocean, repeatedly surging and retreating. Your hands wrap under his arms to grip the planes of his back as your fingers dig into the hard muscle there, clawing for a handhold. You draw your knee up, causing your hips to open wider and granting Arthur more access to your core before your heels dig into the backs of his thighs. And in reaction to your movements, he swallows each of your gasps with his mouth, hungry for you. He winds his hand up into your hair again, pulling slightly to tip your chin back to expose the delicate area of your throat and allowing him to claim what is his with a twinkle of pure delight in his eyes. Your mouth opens up into a soundless scream, an airless breath that fights to escape your chest. And all the while, you are completely absent of coherent thought. Your mind is taken over by the feel of Arthur completely encompassing you.

This goes on for what seems like hours, as time seems to stand still. For the first time in forever, this feels different for both of you. You cling to Arthur as if your life depends on it because maybe it does. Arthur is the very air you breathe. But that is okay, because he clings to you just the same. The two of you lie there, skin against skin, yet you still try to pull each other even closer. It's a wonder that either of you can move at all for how tightly you hold each other. But it's because you move in perfect unison together that you are able to make it work so heavenly.

In this beautiful moment, nestled in the thick of the forest and caressed by the darkness of the night, yet kissed by the glow of a fire, you and Arthur give in to each other so completely and so deeply, each finding that missing piece in each other to make you both whole once more. He is the strength that you so desperately need, and you are the hope and humanity that he lost so long ago.

Lightning begins to build in your abdomen as your climax is soon to come. You can’t even form words to tell him, but Arthur can tell by how much faster you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your hot breath dances across Arthur’s neck as your bottom teeth drag along his earlobe, causing an almost animalistic grunt to erupt from him.

Now it’s your turn to dig your fingers with bruising pressure as your fingernails begin to cut into the flesh of his strong back, holding onto him desperately while the crescendo builds between your legs. You throw your head back with a loud and overwhelmed moan the moment it hits, stars clouding your vision as your climax comes hard with full force like a tidal wave. Arthur stares at you, mesmerized, as his hand comes up to cradle your face as if he’s trying to actually catch the feeling of it into his palm. He is utterly amazed by you. He can’t remember when, or even if, he’s seen a woman react to his touch like this.

And with this sight, Arthur is soon to follow you. Moaning loudly, his eyes shoot wide before screwing tightly shut again to brace himself for the impending sensation about to rock his entire body. And the intensity of his orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks. Arthur quickly reaches up to fist your hair again as he pulls himself out of you just in time to release between your thighs. The muscles of his entire body tense up and restrict, clamping down tightly onto your body underneath him. His breathing becomes staggered and jagged as he sputters to catch his breath.

Arthur has a split second of panic as he pulls out of you, not sure if he has timed himself properly. He almost doesn’t make it because he can barely pry himself from your reflexive grasp to move. Aside from the obvious precautions against pregnancy, Arthur doesn't want to offend you by assuming he could release inside of you.

Arthur remains motionless for a few moments, still trying to catch his breath from his own orgasm, before his bear-like frame collapses onto you. You notice how sweetly his legs and arms tremble as he tries not to crush you beneath him. His face returns to the crook of your neck, panting hot breath onto your sweat-glistening skin. The cool night air is a blessing as a slight breeze chases away the excessive heat that radiates off of your naked bodies. You slowly drag your fingers up the valley of his spine, dancing along the back of his neck and into his hair as the feather-light touch of your fingers causes him to shudder again. You let out a satisfied moan as you flex your fingers into his sweat-damp hair.

Arthur eventually pulls himself up onto his elbows to look you in the face again and is relieved to be greeted by the softest of smiles. You place your hand along his cheek again, just as you did before, and lift up to pepper his face with sweet kisses along his jaw and his cheek and over his eyelids and nose.

Carefully, Arthur rolls off of you and onto his left side, but keeps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he moves. He reaches over you to grab his neckerchief that was discarded earlier and uses it to gently clean your legs and then himself before tossing it aside once more.

Laying there wrapped up into each other’s arms, you forget that the rest of the world exists. You stare into each other's eyes, soaking up the reality of what has just happened between you, as your hand floats up to nestle your fingertips in between the pectoral muscles of his chest. There is a new sense of depth to Arthur’s ocean-blue eyes, a calmness that you haven’t seen before. Arthur studies your face, taking in the way the firelight catches in your irises and mapping the curvature of your lips that he has to fight the urge to kiss again and again.

“So now what?” Arthur asks, finally breaking the blissful silence.

You release a hum of contented exhaustion as you smile at him. "This doesn’t have to be anything that you don’t want it to be, Arthur. Although I’m really hoping it goes past this moment."

“I gotta be honest, (Y/N), I haven’t done this in a long time. I...I don’t know if I can.” He draws his lips inward, biting down slightly as he’s embarrassed to tell you this, worried you’ll reject him here and now.

“But what you don’t realize, Arthur, is that’s where you have me at a disadvantage,” you tell him with a voice so soft and gentle. “At least you’ve had love before. I’ve never been fortunate enough to have what you had, even if it was only for a brief window of time.” You lovingly reach over and run the pads of your fingers over his lips and chin. A lop-sided grin dusts your face as you study him for a moment. “You are capable of so much more than you know, Arthur. I can’t wait for the day that you realize that.”

Arthur hums in contemplation, averting his eyes for a moment as the corners of his mouth lift a bit. His fingertips roll over the delicate skin of your back as your words embed themselves into his mind.

“I don’t want anything from you, Arthur. I just simply want you.” Your breathy voice carries your warm proclamation, assured with the glinting look that you give him.

“This could go so wrong, you know,” he warns, his eyebrows knit with concern as his gaze meets yours once again.

“True. But, it could go so right, too,” you counter with a smirk. “This could be the best thing to happen to either of us, Arthur." You reach over again and gracefully run your fingers through his hair before cupping his cheek again as your thumb gently swipes over his bottom lip. "And I think you’re worth the risk.”

Arthur runs his hand along your back and over your hips, taking in all of your beautiful words. He thinks he is just so ordinary. Or maybe not even that. But to you, he is extraordinary, vast and breathtaking like the bluest sky over the valley. And he can see it in your eyes when you look at him and it makes it hard for him to breathe.

“Do you have any idea what you do to a man?”, he finally smirks, his eyebrows arching questioningly at you.

A coy smile dances upon the petals of your lips in return. “Don’t care about other men. Just you.”

That affirmation causes Arthur’s heart to soar higher than the stars sparkling in the sky above you, and he surges forward and into your lips again. He doesn’t want this moment to end, but only to fold the two of you up into it forever. You smile and hum into Arthur's mouth as his tongue pushes over yours again and again as you can feel his confidence building with each caress of his strong hands across your body.

When you feel him harden against your legs again, you take advantage of the opportunity and gently push the man over to climb on top of him. Your hair falls to create an intimate curtain, housing your two faces so sweetly as you catch Arthur’s lips with your own. You pull away from his mouth and begin to place kisses along his neck and over his shoulder. The thin blanket that Arthur had wrapped around the two of you slowly falls away to expose your naked body to the cool night air once more, causing goosebumps to prickle your skin.

Using one hand to steady yourself, you use the other to explore Arthur’s muscled chest, rolling over the chest hair that decorates his weathered skin. Playing on both angles, you draw your leg up along Arthur’s body, running your knee and leg along his side, while simultaneously moving your hand and lips down his thick torso. The full body caress makes Arthur’s whole body come to life. His body is used to hardship and blows; to be abused and pushed to the limits of its capabilities. Certainly not this type of coveted affection and touching that you are providing him now.

Arthur’s head rolls back with a moan as he is now the one being taken care of. His head thumps back against your make-shift pillow with a soft ‘thud’ sound as his hands land on your shoulders, massaging the muscle there between his strong fingers as you travel downward along his body. Your trail of kisses leads you down to his hips as your hair feathers out over his abdomen.

His breath suddenly hitches as he quickly looks down as you hover over his cock. You look up at him and meet his gaze, before you duck back down, gently taking his large cock into your hand. Arthur’s eyes go wide then immediately heavy-lidded as the heat from your mouth envelops his tip before slowing working down the thickness of his shaft.

You have only done this a few times before now, and Arthur is much larger than you're used to. But desire is a wonderful motivator. Your head starts to bob slowly at first before picking up a faster pace. Using your hand, you're able to take him entirely into your mouth without gagging. Your tongue wraps around the shaft before teasingly flicking at the tip. The muscles of your mouth firmly encompass his cock, creating the most blissful sensation of pressure and suction as you pull up and down. You can hear the hissing and moaning sounds the man is making and it only increases your confidence in your performance, and you change your technique to elicit the specific sound you desire from his trembling lips.

Right now, you only want to take care of Arthur; to make him feel good and show him the attention that he so rightfully deserves. And yet, the idea that you could hold this strong and fearsome outlaw hostage in the palm of your hand is incredible. This position also gives you the opportunity to take note of just how large Arthur is. It’s little wonder how he was able to pull such an intense orgasm from the depth of your body just moments ago. The very memory of it causes your own desires to ramp up, as your heat begins to tingle and get wet between your legs again.

Once Arthur is at the point that he is rock-hard again, you slowly remove his cock from your mouth with a soft “pop” and gently rise-up to place yourself on top of him. Arthur watches you, captivated, as you crawl over him like an animal stalking its prey, and slowly rock back and forth, rubbing yourself against him. He’s tempted to take himself in hand, line himself up with your heat and push up into you again. But he’s too transfixed by your dominance at the moment to do anything but watch you move atop of him.

As if reading his mind, you smirk and you lift up a bit more, wrapping your hand around his rigid cock to guide yourself as you lower onto him, moaning softly and biting down on your lip as his size fills you up yet again. Your head drops back, hair cascading down your back, as you start to slow-grind on him in a hypnotic rhythm.

Finally able to pull his mind out of its lust-drunk fog, Arthur runs his hands up the front of your thighs, his thumbs rubbing small circles into the plush skin there. He snakes one hand along your stomach and up into the valley between your breasts as the other hand lands on your hip, his fingers digging slightly to help hold the pace you are setting. Letting you take the lead this time allows Arthur to take in the sight of you as you straddle his hips with your own.

You're not perfect. But it’s your imperfections that make you perfect to Arthur. It really is as if you are made for each other. You have curves, for sure. You're not as small as some of the other girls in camp, but you fit into Arthur’s large hands perfectly. He doesn’t feel like he’s going to break you as if you are a porcelain doll. Your individual features are pleasant for sure, but taken in as a whole, you are striking. At least to Arthur you are.

He savors the touch of your soft skin against his which is rough and weathered; how the large orbs of your adoring eyes are looking down at him right now, and how you so generously take him into yourself. You are beautiful, you are kind…and you are his. And the two of you can’t get enough of each other.

For you, you had been so worried that what happened in Rosewood would have ruined you. And it almost did. But you didn’t want that act of depravity to define you. And you pulled from the common adversity of your new family to help rebuild your spirit like a phoenix rising from the ashes. And if that hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t be here now, like this. With Arthur.

If it were anyone else touching you like this, you’d probably curl up into a ball, retracting into yourself in fear or self-loathing. But with Arthur, you feel safe and shielded as if no one else in the world would, or could, touch you.

Arthur is different and you’ve always known it by the way he makes you feel, even when he simply speaks to you. He is warm and instantly feels familiar to you, like he has always been the other half of yourself. He feels solid and secure to your touch and almost makes you feel drunk with emotions that can’t even be named. The best feeling in the whole world is to be with someone who wants you just as much as you want them.

It's amazing how life works sometimes. Some people always have the sunshine in life while others always seem to get the rain. But sometimes, you really do need to suffer through the storm to see the magic of the rainbow at the end of it.

As you continue to ride him, Arthur can see and feel both of you rapidly approaching your conjoined climax again as he can feel the velvet walls of your heat clenching around his twitching cock inside of you. As you begin to move even faster, you take your hands off of where you've been holding on to Arthur’s forearms and lean over him to plant them on his shoulders. This angle gives you more leverage to grind Arthur even deeper into yourself, if that’s even possible. Harder, faster. Deeper than you thought possible, until you feel as if he’s up into your ribcage. Arthur reciprocates by bucking his hips up into yours with each stroke, causing you to gasp as the breath is taken right out of your lungs with the feel of it. And it’s shortly thereafter that you both start to grasp at each other again, bracing for the overstimulation about to hit.

Your climax is intense and hits first again. A sharp moan erupts from your lips as your head instantly snaps backwards. And as your muscles begin to go limp as you come down, Arthur grabs you and takes control, sitting up slightly to wrap his strong arms around you, and rides you through the surge of it.

Watching your eyes roll back into your head with a strained cry, he is quick to hit his own climax and swiftly lifts you up to pull himself out of you again. He pitches you forward, causing your trembling arms to brace yourself against him as he spills his seed along your conjoined thighs once more. It’s a good thing Arthur has a hold of you, too, as you are completely undone at this point, your whole body seemingly boneless. You roll your head to the side and close your eyes before leaning forward to collapse against his chest.

You both lay there for some time, motionless except for your heaving chests. Arthur’s massive arms encircle you to hold you tight to him as you curl up onto the plane of his chest, your fingers clutching at him. Eventually, you shift to lower yourself to lay along Arthur’s side. You turn into him and snuggle your face into his chest as your hand rests across his heart which you can feel beating like crazy beneath your palm. You absentmindedly rake your fingers through his chest-hair and lift your leg up and over to entwine with his, still trying to keep as close to him as possible.

Smiling slightly at the feeling of your warm body against his, Arthur pulls the blanket around you again to cover your naked body as it drapes over his own. He lays his hand atop of yours that rests on his chest and wraps his other arm around you to cradle you back into him, his hand tangling in your hair as he holds your head.

And here in this perfect little moment of satiated bliss, Arthur is happy.

“We could have done this a long time ago, you know,” you snicker as you roll your eyes up to look at him.

“Hmmm, don’t I know it. Remind me next time to listen to you, would ya?” He pulls his rough fingers along your spine and up over your bare shoulders, still fascinated by how soft your skin is.

“It’s like I told you before, Arthur: you look out for me, I��ll look out for you,” you say drowsily, as sleep is about to take over your worn-out senses. And within moments, you are asleep.

When you go silent and the only sound he hears is the crickets in the night, Arthur looks down at your form, curled up into him like a kitten and almost as fragile looking as one, too. He runs his fingertip along your shoulder again, admiring how the appendage curves. And as he watches you in your euphoric slumber, his mind starts to wander now that it’s quiet and his wits are about him once more.

It is amazing how this person who was once a total stranger to him can suddenly, and without warning, mean the world to him. You are everything Arthur has ever dared to hope for. And somehow, by some miracle, you have graced him with your affection. And Arthur knows it now: time, distance, background - nothing could separate you two. This is real and this is right. Arthur understands now that you are the person that he was always meant to find, and he is unimaginably captivated by you.

In the quiet night air, now that the symphony of moans and panting are done, the only sound carrying through the still night air is the popping of the fire as it dies down. The faint noise of a hooting owl in the trees can be heard off in the distance. Left to his own thoughts, Arthur’s reason and self-doubt begin to creep up again, but it’s only for a moment. Spreading like black ink, Micah’s words ring through his mind : if Arthur really cared for you, he’d save you the heartache and keep you safe from him and the trouble that someone like him brings.

But now, Arthur doesn’t think he could ever do that even if he tried. Selfishly, now that he has you, he doesn’t want to let you go. It would be like taking the air from his lungs or the blood from his heart. Arthur is all-consumed by you now. He could die tomorrow and he'll be a happy man.

What if he doesn’t run this time, but stays and lets your affection for him, possibly even love, overtake him? Arthur never fathomed that even something as simple as the sound of your voice could ever calm his soul like you have.

So instead of the foolish notion to leave you in order to protect you, Arthur determines he’s going to do everything in his power to keep you safe and protected in his care. He is your guardian, and you are his angel.

As he comes to this conclusion, Arthur’s powerful arms involuntarily tighten around you as if someone was going to come and take you away from him. He leans down and places an ever-so soft kiss on the top of your head, causing you to shift even closer into him in your sleep.

“I got you, baby-girl. I got you”, he whispers.

-----------------------------------------

Several hours go by and you slowly wake from your blissful slumber to the sound of chirping birds in the air. The lightening sky of soft lavender and subdued pinks washes over the landscape and creeps its way into the hunting shelter, intruding upon the blissful solitude where you and Arthur are still tucked away.

The last few plumes of smoke from the dying fire slowly waft through the air. Both of you must have been worn out from your passionate love-making as you are both in the same position as when you fell asleep in each other's arms. The slightly damp, cool breeze of the morning blows across your exposed shoulder, causing you to stir. You slowly stretch and curl into a tighter ball around the bulk of the man beneath you. You inhale deeply as your muscles flex and you instantly catch his scent. The smell of leather and cigarettes, mixed with a bit of clove from his soap, fills your nose. It instantly makes you smile in your hazy sleep, remembering where you are and that this is indeed not a dream.

Arthur refused to sleep much overnight, keeping a watchful eye on you as you slept, but he did end up dozing lightly here and there. When he feels you move against his bare skin, warm and soothing, he peels open his blue-green eyes with a sleepy grunt and peers down at you.

“Hey you,” he murmurs softly as he runs his thumb across your temple. You smile, inhaling deeply again, taking a moment to appreciate where you are before you reply with your own sleep-hushed “Hey you”.

“We’re gonna have to get goin’ here soon, little miss. Dutch ain’t gonna be too happy if we’re out much longer.” Arthur’s voice is thick with sleep and, of course, carrying with it the reluctant tone to enforce what he's saying.

You groan in disappointment, burying your face back into him as you shuffle a bit as your limbs slowly awaken once more. “You sure that’s the way you want to go?” you ask coyly, as you start to leave kisses on Arthur’s chest while seductively drawing circles on his skin with your fingertip.

“Aw c’mon, you’re killin’ me,” he whines, causing you to giggle mischievously. Arthur wraps you up into his arms and squeezes tightly before relaxing again. When you’re able to lift your head, you reach up to pull his face to yours and plant a soft, yet very intimate kiss on his lip. Your eyes create that dreamy, longing stare again as you look up into his face and run your knuckles along his cheek.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, you know that?” Arthur raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, I know.” With a quick kiss to his nose, you slowly sit up and stretch, looking around for your clothes with a sigh of disappointment. “But I suppose you’re right. We should get going.”

Arthur reluctantly sits up as well, leaning over to kiss your naked shoulder as he runs his hand slowly down your back, his touch tickling your skin. Your eyes slowly float closed as you turn your head into his, trying to savor every last bit of time you have alone together.

“Trust me, Darlin’, I’d stay out here with you forever if I could,” he mumbles into your skin as his nose and lips smoosh into your shoulder as if trying to melt the two of you together.

“Yeah, yeah, promises, promises,” you joke as you roll over to grab your blouse and skirt. Arthur sees the perfect opportunity and playfully smacks your exposed butt, pulling a slight squeak from your lips.

But soon enough, the two of you get yourselves together. You reluctantly pull apart from one another long enough to pack up the few things you had brought with you in your hasty departure yesterday and prepare to leave the little hunting lean-to and head back to camp. The sun has awakened as well at this point and begins to shine down, its beams freckling through the tree branches. It is a gloriously beautiful morning and you look upon it with a whole new sense of wonder and happiness in your heart.

As you shake out the blanket and roll it up in your hands, Arthur stands hesitantly behind you, watching you gracefully move as you tuck the last bit of things onto Buck’s saddle. Noticing him out of the corner of your eye, you turn and give him a curious look. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine. Just rolling the last 12 hours around in my head," he mumbles, swirling his hand in the air by his temple. "It’s hard to believe what just happened.” Arthur smiles sheepishly, rubbing his hand along his chin as he thinks about his current situation.

So much has changed in the last few days, let alone hours. From the fighting between you, to his ride to Rosewood; from the confessions to the embrace. And of course, the beautiful night you’ve just spent together. The river of emotions have weighed heavily on Arthur, leaving him delightfully overwhelmed and uncharacteristically content.

You beam with sparkling eyes as you take a few steps over to him. “Well, now you can touch whenever you want to. That should be fun, yeah?” You reach your arms around his barrel-chest, squeezing him to you, and lift your face upwards to start placing sweet kisses along his face and neck.

"Whatcha doin?” Arthur asks cautiously, a suspicious eyebrow raised, but one that belies the grin creeping across his bearded face.

“Just lovin' up on you again,” you giggle into his neck. "Something tells me you're past due and I got a lot of time to make up for."

A low hum rumbles from deep in his chest as Arthur folds you up against him, squeezing you into a strong embrace in return. He collects your beautiful face into his giant hands and leans down to kiss you deeply. Your breath rolls over each other’s as you indulge your senses yet again. Once more, the rest of the world falls away the moment your lips touch. The feeling leaves your knees weak and you have to fight the urge to push it farther as your arms tighten around his torso and begin to creep up his back.

When he pulls back again, Arthur looms over you, looking down into your face and admiring the precious gift he’s holding in his hands. He gives a slight shake to his head, absolutely blown away by his dumb-luck and how he’s managed to fall ass-backwards into your life. Arthur stares at you for a moment, those vivid blue eyes of his bright with a whole new purpose behind them as you reflect back to him the most resplendent smile he has ever seen.

“Mine,” he whispers.

“Yours,” you respond breathlessly.

----------------------------------------

It is mid-morning by the time you and Arthur make your way back to camp. You’re not too sure of what you’ll come back to, but prepare yourselves for the teasing and cat-calls you’re sure are coming. Thankfully, though, it’s mostly knowingly smirks and waves that greet you. A slight wave of relief settles over you at that, as you are not sure how Arthur would react to such personal teasing. Despite the connection that the two of you have, he is still very much a private person.

You both get Arthur’s horse taken care of, offer your apologies to a very agitated Blue for being left behind, and then head over to Pearson’s wagon to get some much-needed coffee. The camp is relatively quiet this morning, with a few members milling about with their own agendas. The slight breeze waffs the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee in your direction and pulls you like a tether. You inhale deeply, your eyes briefly rolling shut, and smile with the feeling of “being home”. This little moment is so perfect: a beautiful morning, surrounded by friends, hot coffee on the fire, and your man at your side.

“There’s the love-birds,” Pearson chimes loudly with a wink when he notices you and Arthur. The cook stirs the last remnants of breakfast in his pot, clanging the utensil loudly on the side to shake off whatever coats the spoon. The portly man quickly puts down the ladle and grabs the coffee pot and a few cups for you.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Arthur, waving him off as his face turns a slight shade of pink. You simply smile and gratefully take the cup from Pearson’s hand. A quick, eager sip of the hot, bitter liquid cascades down your throat, warming you from the inside out and a soft “Ahhhh” escapes your lips. And before the two of you can do anything else, you are greeted by the sound of Dutch’s voice carrying through the air.

“Well, well, nice of you two to join us again!”

You and Arthur both turn to see Dutch and Hosea approach and notice Hosea holding a few rolls of paper in his hands.

“Are you two done foolin’ around so we can get some work done around here?” asks Dutch, raising his eyebrows at you both in impatience with a slight wave of his arm.

“For now,” you quip back. “But I was hoping to fool around a bit again before dinner”. You give Dutch a cocky smirk and a wink.

Hosea's face wrinkles delightfully as he tries to stifle a laugh while Arthur lowers his head to hide a huge smile under the brim of his hat at your insinuation. But the look on Dutch’s face is anything but amused by your comment right now.

“Not in the mood. Right,” you say awkwardly under Dutch’s impatient glare, clearing your throat and quickly minding your place. “I’ll just...go somewhere over there.” You wave your hand dismissively towards the center of the camp before turning to Arthur. “I’ll see you later, Arthur,” you giggle.

Placing your hand on his arm, you give it a slight squeeze along with a big smile. He gives you a quick nod before you quickly scurry away from the men. Arthur’s eyes continue to follow after you, landing on the curve of your rear as you walk away, instantly missing your presence. He reluctantly turns back to Dutch only to be met with the older man’s stink-eye look.

“What?” asks Arthur innocently, chuckling a little.

Dutch plants his ringed hands onto his hips in annoyance, tilting his head to the side just a bit as he looks at Arthur. “This is going to get really old, really fast, isn’t it?” asks Dutch with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, leave him alone, Dutch. He’s finally got a good thing goin’ there for himself,” interrupts Hosea approvingly with a knowing grin on his face. “Now, come on you two. We need to go over these carrier routes.” Hosea waves the papers he’s been holding in front of them and motions to the nearest table with his head.

Leaving the three of them to their business, you take your cup of coffee and saunter over to the fire to take advantage of a rare quiet morning to relax. Noticing that you are back in camp, Abigail is quick to run up to you with a huge cheshire-cat-like smile sparkling on her face.

“Well, good morning, Miss (Y/L/N),” Abigail sings as she hustles over, shimmying up to you and elbowing your arm. “Soooo?” she questions you with a smirk.

But you playfully roll your eyes at her and shake your head as you take a seat next to the other girls who are already gathered around the fire and trying to wake up for the day. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell," you tease Abigail with a grin, demurely pulling your shoulder to your chin.

“Well, we know there was more than kissin’ going on last night, so why don’t you tell us about that then?” jokes Abigail, swatting your arm.

"So tell us, (Y/N)! How was it?" Karen blurts out eagerly. Her sleepy face instantly perks up the moment you sit down.

"Karen!" scolds Mary-Beth in a hushed tone. Judging by their snickering, you can only imagine that your departure last night has been the talk of the camp.

"What?” Karen protests innocently to Mary-Beth. “I'm genuinely curious.” She waves her hand nonchalantly towards you. “I wanna know if it was worth all the trouble and the wait.” When Mary-Beth gives nothing but a disapproving stare, Karen leans in to her and swats her friend’s leg. “Oh c'mon, like you ain't dyin' to know yourself," she hisses.

"Actually, I'm kind of curious about it myself," interjects Abigail, looking back to you with that same cat-like grin.

“Yeah, (Y/N), how’d it go?” asks Tilly, leaning forward in her chair and planting her elbows on her knees in keen interest.

It is so sweet to you how your friends want to share in your excitement. You’ve never had siblings, and even your friendships as a young girl were never as open and close as the relationships that you have quickly cultivated with these women. Your face begins to bashfully dust pink at their attention, yet you can’t help yourself as your smile gets even wider by the minute.

“Some of the best moments in life are the things that you can’t tell other people about,” you gush, yet still trying to be elusive.

“Oh, come on! That ain’t fair! You gotta give us somethin’!” begs Karen, smacking her hands on her thighs and leaning in towards you.

You simply reply with a long, mockingly-impatient sigh before your face turns a deeper shade of scarlet. You cover your face with your hands for a few moments before pulling them down to peek over your fingertips at your friends, blushing and giggling like a school-girl.

"It was...perfect," you say with a dreamy, love-drunk grin on your face.

“Ooooo” They all let out a collective excited giggle, elbowing each other and so happy for both you and for Arthur.

—------------------------------

Fortunately, it is a bit of a slow day today and Ms Grimshaw is not chasing after everyone to get back to work for once. So you are able to just sit and socialize with the girls. You pass the time sipping coffee and gossiping, discussing what the plans are for the day and watching Jack play “swords” with a stick with Uncle. It is a perfectly content afternoon for once.

Somewhere off to the side you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat before they approach your little group. You turn your head when movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and instantly grin ear to ear when you see that it is Arthur. The way your whole body lights up the moment that you see him makes Arthur instantly wish you were back at the hunting shelter. You’ve only been apart for a little over an hour and yet it already feels like days.

"Ladies", he addressed the group of you with a nod and polite touch to the brim of his hat.

"Hey, Arthur" they all giggle and smirk at the outlaw at their inside joke. You are quick to swat at them, trying to get them to hush.

"Uh...right.” His hand comes up behind his neck as he stands there awkwardly, suddenly a little uncomfortable with their smirking faces all turned to him. “(Y/N), can I talk to you for a minute?" He waves his hand to usher you away from the small group to speak in private.

“Sure.” You bounce up from your seat to follow him, turning back over your shoulder with a quick glare at your friends in warning to knock it off with the teasing cackles.

You and Arthur walk a few feet away from the girls before you stop and turn to face each other. "Don't mind them,” you say quickly to Arthur, waving at the girls. “They're just..." and you roll your eyes and shake your head, totally at a loss for words.

“Hmmm…yeah I know how they can get,” Arthur acknowledges with a chuckle. He pauses for a moment, looking down at you with a bit of a dopey grin. This is the first time you’ve had a moment alone together again since you’ve gotten back and he’s missed you already.

“Listen, I gotta leave for a bit. Hosea’s got a lead on some work, need to check it out. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.” His eyebrows raise a bit, waiting to see how you will react to this information.

“Okay”. You nod in understanding, giving him a simple smile. Your response is so easy and accepting. Arthur was expecting a protest or for you to be upset, but he’s pleasantly surprised when you are not.

“Well, after last night, I wasn’t sure if it was proper to leave.” He gives you a sheepish, guilty look as his thumbs tuck into his gunbelt in his usual, comfortable stance.

You place your hands over his arms as you lean in closer. “It’s alright. Go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here.”

Arthur hesitates for a moment as something else is clearly on his mind, and he shifts his weight from one hip to the other before he speaks again. “One more thing. Would you do something for me?” His eyes squint just a bit as he thinks on how to pose his next question.

“Anything.” You smile at him, moving your hands onto his chest now, and your fingers begin to fiddle with the knot of his neckerchief. Arthur hums a little, his eyes following your fingers and trying not to get distracted from his task at hand.

“Stay here in camp ‘til I get back, would ya? Don't be goin' out with the girls or nothin'. I’d feel better knowing you were safe here 'til I got back.” Arthur’s face becomes more serious now. You instantly realize what he’s asking of you and why, and his protectiveness is quite touching. You are relieved to see that Arthur has already taken to the idea of the two of you being “together” and it warms your heart.

“Sure, I can do that,” you agree and your smile grows even bigger like a plant that has been watered and set in the sun. You take Arthur’s chin in your fingers and pull him down as you raise up on your toes to kiss him sweetly. He blushes a bit at the public display of affection that he's not used to. But he loves it just the same.

"Be careful, please." You playfully scold him, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Always am," Arthur smirks.

From somewhere behind him, you can hear Bill yelling for him. “Come on Morgan, let’s go!” Arthur lets out an exasperated sigh as he looks at you, rolling his eyes before he turns to leave and making you giggle.

“Play nice!”, you call after him as Arthur begrudgingly walks away.

"Never do!" he calls back with another smirk and a wink at you over his shoulder.

Your eyes follow Arthur with a contented sigh escaping your lips as he walks towards the awaiting group that is about to head out. His broad shoulders rock slightly with his slow, swaggering walk; his burly arms sway at his sides, hovering above the guns that hang so naturally on his hips.

Yep. No doubt about it. You are just stupid for, and hopelessly in love with, this man.

You shake your head at the wonder of it all and turn to head back to the girls.

Arthur makes his way over to the hitching posts to join the others in getting ready to head out on the scout job. He lifts his chin in acknowledgement to John who is already sitting atop Old Boy, waiting for Arthur to join the group. Then suddenly Arthur is brought out of his reverie by an unwelcome sound.

“So you and (Y/N) have finally done the deed, eh, Morgan?” The sound of Micah’s voice grates on Arthur’s nerves like a knife scraping across metal as the man saunters over to follow Arthur to the horses. (Ugh, of course Dutch wants him for this job, as well.)

“Well, how was she?” the bastard grunts. “I bet she’s real frisky. Like a cat.” Micah shakes his eyebrows suggestively at Arthur, knowing full-well that he’s pressing his luck.

A lightning bolt of anger shoots through Arthur’s very being at the very mention of your name from Micah’s despicable lips. His jaw flexes tightly as he grits his teeth together. He reaches out and shoves his massive hand onto Micah’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. Arthur pulls a deep inhale through his nose in order to collect himself before he speaks. His eyes turn to that hard, icy-blue color as they pierce menacingly into Micah.

“Let’s get something straight right now.” Arthur points his finger at Micah’s chest. “You don’t talk about her. You don’t look at her. In fact, do yourself a favor and don’t even think about her. Or you and I are goin' to go rounds. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Arthur’s voice is low and unyielding. That hardness that the outlaw is known for rears its dangerous head in Micah’s direction and the weasel freezes, instantly knowing where that line in the sand has been drawn.

“Say it,” Arthur slowly grits out between clenched teeth as he menacingly towers over Micah. “Say you understand me, asshole.”

Micah narrows his eyes at Arthur, the argument right there on the tip of his foul tongue, trying to decide just how far he wants to push this right now. But ultimately, he slowly swallows and concedes to back off. For now.

“Sure, cowpoke,” utters Micah, holding his hands up in surrender. “Anything you say.” His scummy, snakelike grin leaves Arthur with an unsettling feeling. If he didn’t like you being around Micah before, Arthur sure as hell doesn't like it now.

—------------------------------

It’s well into the evening when Arthur and the others come back to camp. It’s been a long, yet productive day and Arthur just wants to sit still for one damn moment and relax. Everyone who was left at home is sitting around the fire sharing stories and passing a bottle or two. Your head perks up when you hear the sound of hoofbeats in the distance and you watch Arthur ride in. You notice how he slowly climbs down from Buck’s saddle, almost bone by bone, with exhaustion. As he turns to head into the camp, the outlaw’s tired eyes immediately seek you out amongst the group. And once your eyes meet, your smile draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Arthur stops to grab a bottle of his own out of one of the crates before ambling over to the fire to take a seat next to you on the ground where you are curled up on a blanket. You nudge your shoulder into his side as he gets settled, placing your hand on his knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. The corners of Arthur’s mouth turn up as his eyes slowly blink at you with fatigue. The feeling of your warm body curled up against him instantly calms and centers him. He didn’t realize until now just how nice it is to have someone waiting for him when he comes home.

“Before you two get too cozy over there, you’re on guard duty tonight, Arthur,” announces Javier over the fire pit, interrupting your little private reunion.

Arthur quickly throws an annoyed look in Javier's direction. “What? You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“I covered for you last night, amigo” Javier tips his beer bottle towards Arthur with a knowing smirk.

Arthur groans with disappointment. Feeling his frustrations, you lean into Arthur’s side, your face close to his. “Don’t worry, it’s alright,” you whisper. “We’ll have plenty of time later.” Fortunately, you get at least an hour together to relax at the fire before Arthur has to take his leave to head to the look-out post.

Soon after, after the darkness has snuffed out the sunlight of the day, the camp begins to settle for the evening and the people begin to meander back to their respective places for the night. You stand up from your spot at the fire, stretching your stiff joints before bending over to pick up the blanket you were sitting on. Shaking out the fabric, you neatly fold the blanket over your arm and turn to head to your tent.

You haven’t wandered too far off when you begin to hear the shuffling of footsteps behind you. And before you can say or do anything, the sight of Micah Bell comes into your line of vision. Your eyebrows crease in confusion as you wonder what in the world he could possibly want right now.

“Looks like you and Arthur have finally "consummated", as it were. Tell me, (Y/N),” Micah sweeps his hand out in front of him, “Can anyone take a ride in that saddle?"

You can only glare incredulously at him for such an insinuation. God, he is such a disgusting pig. Apparently, Micah is not only going to antagonize Arthur about it, but he’s going to make an attempt at you as well.

"I mean, if you're gonna spread them pretty legs of yours for the likes of Morgan, can't imagine you got any high standards." Micah arrogantly drags his dirty fingers over his nicotine-stained mustache as if he is about to eat a delectable meal.

You slowly tilt your head at him, your gaze cold. "And that is what burns you up the most, isn't it, Micah?" Your eyes narrow at him, trying to figure out his angle as you play his little game.

Micah licks his lips and nibbles a bit, taking the bait in return. "What's that, Princess?"

"That I would concede to lay with a man like Arthur, yet I won't even give you the time of day.” You cross your arms over your chest as you hold his gaze in defiance. “That must really get to you, hmm?" you purr.

The smugness instantly drops from Micah’s face being replaced with a sneer. You step a few paces closer, right up into his face so that he can smell the lavender oil you wear. His eyes rake over your body, noting how your cleavage gathers under your crossed arms. He can feel your warm breath scattering across his face. Your boldness, your lack of fear of him, is as annoying to Micah as it is arousing. He sucks his teeth in an effort to regain his composure as he stands in front of you.

"Know this, Micah. Arthur Morgan is twice the man that you could ever even dream to be," you say with a chilling dead calm. "And in more ways than one, I might add.”

Micah’s mouth twitches at that last rub. "Well, (Y/N), I guess it's a good thing I ain't ever aspired to be more than I am, then." His tone challenges yours as he leans even closer to you, the tone in the air bordering on threatening.

"That is unfortunate," you say coolly as you confidently hold your ground. "For all of us. Good night, Mr. Bell." And you turn to head into your tent, leaving Micah standing there alone in the cold night air.

—----------------------------------

Arthur leans his shoulder against the large tree, staring out into the darkness of the woods. The moon is full tonight, looming high above the tree tops and cascading its bright silvery light upon the silent world below. He stands guard over the camp as a brooding sentinel as he slowly draws on yet another cigarette. Smoke huffs out of his lungs like that of a locomotive.

This is not the place he wants to be right now, as his thoughts drift and focus on you and your night together. Even now, as he recalls even the smallest detail of last night, it seems like a dream to him. He half expects to wake at any moment alone in his tent, surrounded by nothing but the lonesome night, as it all seems just too good to be true. He still has no explanation as to how you seem to pull him in, but you just do. Like that same silvery moon hanging above that pulls on the ocean tides, you draw Arthur to you; just as unyielding, unchanging, and just as magical.

Suddenly Arthur’s daydream is interrupted by the very person he’s thinking about. He catches a wisp of fabric in his peripheral vision. Turning his chin over his shoulder, Arthur sees you coming down the path. He watches as your breath swirls in the frosty air, preceding you as you approach. Like an ethereal being, the moon’s glimmer casts your hair in a soft backlight, causing your gown to be almost see-through in the luminescence as he can see the outline of your calves as you walk. Your delicate hand clasps your shawl around you in the chill air while you carry something else in your other hand. As you get closer, Arthur can see that you have come to bring him a steaming cup of coffee.

A huge smile instantly erupts across Arthur’s face as he pushes himself up off of the tree. "Hey there, Beautiful. What are you doin’ out here this late?"

The nickname causes your cheeks to burn red more than the chill night air that nips at your tender skin.

“Coming to see you.” You hand him the cup of coffee, which he gratefully accepts and immediately takes a sip. The hot liquid instantly chases the cold from his tired body and offers just the pick-up that he needed. “How’s it going out here?” you ask as you shiver a bit before pulling the knit shawl tighter around yourself.

“Oh, loads of excitement.” Arthur’s dead-pan drawl makes you laugh a bit.

You snuggle up to his bulky frame, putting your hands around his ribs and looking up into his face with your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. With his free hand, Arthur snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. Despite the cold night air, he is so warm that you just want to curl up into him again like you did at the shelter. He leans in to kiss you, his plump lips finding yours once again. Starting off slowly, your tongue quickly begins to wrestle with his. He tastes like the cigarettes and whiskey he's been consuming while out here.

Dropping his chin, Arthur starts to kiss the tender skin underneath your ear before he proceeds to drag his fingertip along the area. “I love this spot,” he says, his voice a husky murmur in your ear..

“Do you, now?” you sigh with a silky tone of your own.

“MmmHmm. Because when I kiss it, you make that sound.” And he leans in again, placing another kiss in the same spot, only this time sucking a bit harder as his teeth catch your skin. And as if on command, a breathless whimper escapes your lips before you can control it and your eyes flutter closed again. It makes you melt at how playful he’s become just from simply providing him the opportunity and the feeling of being safe to do so.

After a few more moments of delicious kisses and nuzzling, you pull away just a bit, leaving your faces hovering close to one another's.

"I’d better get out of here," you whisper, "before I’m any more of a distraction."

"Too late for that now," Arthur hums, dipping his face down as he rubs his nose to yours, trying to entice you into another kiss.

"Tell you what.” You pull your face back a bit more to get his attention only to be met with a playful scowl of disappointment from him. “I’ll be waiting for you in your tent. When you’re done here, you know where I’ll be." You reach up to set a soft kiss upon Arthur’s stubbled cheek. And with a teasing grin, you turn and saunter back toward the camp, hips swaying exaggeratedly.

Arthur’s eyes follow you, the movement of your hips almost hypnotic, causing him to sigh deeply. And just like that, you are gone just as quickly as you had arrived; almost like a dream.

"Damn..." he says with a slight amazement.

—---------------------------------

It’s shortly before dawn when Bill comes down the path to relieve Arthur from his post. The large man ambles towards Arthur rubbing his bear-paw over his eyes and yawning profusely.

“I swear he’s walkin’ slower by the damn minute”, Arthur grumbles to himself with a huff when he lays his exhausted eyes on the man. He shoots Bill a look of annoyance as he briskly walks past the burly outlaw to head back to his tent. “I got things to do, Bill,” he snaps.

Bill simply chuckles with that deep voice of his as he adjusts his hat on his head against the brisk early-morning air. “Oh, I bet you do, my friend.”

Arthur can’t get back to his tent fast enough. He quickly strides across the camp, hurriedly passing by the other snoring and sleeping residents. It's still quiet out and the sun has yet to poke its radiant head above the horizon line. With any luck, Arthur will have a few hours alone with you before the flurry of daily activity kicks up again.

Excitement travels through Arthur’s exhausted body as he reaches his tent. The very sight of his humble little nest that waits for him in the shadows offers him a whole new level of tranquility. He is quick to notice that it is all silent and dark in the space. He half expected a candle to be burning or something.

Arthur hesitates outside the canvas before quietly pulling back the flaps and peers in before entering. And he is elated at the sight of you asleep on his cot, waiting for him just as you said you would be. In the back of his mind, Arthur harbored some doubt that you would be here, thinking maybe you’d change your mind for one reason or another. He cherishes the idea that someone, but especially you, would be waiting for the likes of him.

Arthur quietly creeps in and fixes the flaps back down to ward off the cold autumn breeze before it wakes you. He smiles to himself as he quietly shucks off his jacket and holster, his eyes continuing to rest on your sleeping form as he quietly moves about the tent.

He carefully sits on the edge of the cot, taking a moment to watch you sleeping peacefully. His eyes roam over your body from head to toe, taking in the sight of you and marveling at the treasure he has in front of him.

You're laying comfortably on your back, hair splayed round your face on the pillow. Your one arm rests up by your face, the other lays gracefully across your abdomen. Arthur’s head tilts to the side as he observes how your chest slowly rises and falls with calm breaths. Your eyelids occasionally flutter, making your lashes dance upon your angelic face. Oh, what it must be like to rest so peacefully, he wonders. Maybe now with you by his side, he’ll get to know what that’s like. Maybe.

Arthur places his hand beside your head as he leans over to gently kiss your delicate lips. The action causes you to startle awake, a sharp gasp crossing your lips as your hands shoot to his chest in surprise. But you are quickly relieved to see his handsome face hovering above yours.

"Sorry," Arthur murmurs with an apologetic grin. "Couldn’t resist."

You hum with a sleepy countenance as you slowly sit up, the heel of your hand rubbing your eye in an effort to wake yourself. You reach over to cup Arthur’s face and kiss him back as a welcome. When you pull away, you look him over, noting the sheer exhaustion that coats his whole body.

"You look so tired," you say with a sympathetic smile.

"I am tired." A deep sigh of acknowledgement escapes from Arthur’s chest as he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger with his one hand.

You nod in understanding. "Okay, then." You smile sweetly as you take a moment to curl your fingers through his hair, touching your forehead to his, before you swing your legs over the side of the cot and start to stand up.

Confused, Arthur sits up straighter with apprehension. "Where you goin’?"

You turn back around with a fluid and graceful movement as you catch his chin between your fingers in reassurance. "I’m just going back to my tent so you can get some sleep, is all."

"Well…", Arthur huffs in disappointment, his face dropping and his hands flopping into his lap.

"What’s wrong?" you ask, slightly amused at his pouty face.

"I mean…I know we’re not gonna…you know…” Arthur waves his hand at you suggestively. "But I was hoping you’d stay with me while I get some sleep."

"Oh." A big smile erupts on your face. "Okay, then," you gush, biting your lower lip a bit and trying to contain your excitement. You move to settle back down onto the cot, scooching over and fidgeting to make room as Arthur lays down alongside you.

“Boots, please” you say in a soft scold, tapping his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh!" And Arthur quickly sits back up to take off his boots. He’s so used to being on his own that he’s often just falling into bed, not even bothering to take off his jacket let alone his boots. Arthur is not used to having anyone in his space, let alone a woman in his bed. You look down with a soft smile as he pulls at his mud-dried boots with thick, clumsy fingers.

He lays back down and gets settled once more. You both wiggle awkwardly, giggling as you do, so that you can both fit onto his squeaky one-person cot. You face each other as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You lift your leg over his, so that you can snuggle in tight, laying almost nose to nose to make room for each other.

Finally finding a comfortable position, Arthur inhales deeply and lets out a long exhale. You smile as you watch the tension drain from his shoulders. (You swear he just lost about 2 inches in height in doing that.) You gently reach up and lay your hand along Arthur’s neck, fingers resting along his jawline, as your thumb sweeps across those scars on his chin. Your eyes scatter across the tired features of his strong and handsome face.

You have no idea how this is going to play out between you two, but right now, you don't care. He is a risk, as you told him before, and your future together is an uncertain mystery. And yet, this is the most certain thing that you have felt in what seems like forever. Here, at this moment, in this precious, precarious little bubble, you are with Arthur, and that is all that matters.

"Hmmmm…that’s better," says Arthur, finally relaxed and content.

“Happy, now?” you affectionately tease.

“Quite.”

"Goodnight, Arthur." Your honeyed voice sings to him in the darkness before you close your eyes again.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

See me, feel me, touch me, heal me

-Pete Townshend - The Who

*The line about the storm and the rainbow is based on a quote from the wonderful Dolly Parton, whom I idolize. And the “guardian angel” line is based on a meme that I saw.

***Ahhh! Finally! I've been working on this for over a year, but had to write the events that lead up to this first. But good news, this is not the ending! I have much more taking place after this. Some of it is fluffy, some will be smutty, some will be angsty! For those who are interested in reading a continuing storyline, I can tell you that my plan is to see this through to the end (which I have already written, btw). If anyone is interested in being on a taglist, let me know. (I am really bad at those, so I am trying to figure out how to keep track of that kind of thing.)

Comments and feedback are welcome! As I continue this story, I also want to develop my writing skills. So please let me know what you like and don't like.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #rdr2 fanfic

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mysteryshoptls · 5 months

Text

SR Leona Kingscholar - Playful Dress Vignette

"Once we got it started"

[Playful Land – Expedition Whale]

Trey: Really now… All the first years are just filled with energy.

Leona: Seriously. They ran around like crazy during the show, and they're still trying to drag me to all the attractions.

Leona: This is just as exhausting as when my nephew tries to tag after me. I've had more than enough.

Trey: Haha… Yeah, this also reminds me of how it is whenever I got to amusement parks with my siblings.

Leona: Thought I'd take a nap on a bench somewhere, but… There's nowhere with a decent amount of shade.

Leona: There's gotta be some place indoors I can relax… Hm?

Leona: This attraction they got here on the map… It doesn't look too terrible. Hey, Trey. Come with me for a bit.

Trey: Eh, me!? I mean, I don't really have any plans, so it's fine, but…

Leona: Good, it's settled. Follow me.

Trey: What in the world… Leona's actually inviting me somewhere!?

[Playful Land – Cue Sports Lounge]

Trey: Oh, this is the billiards hall.

Leona: Yep, this is good. The air conditioner works, and it's quiet and cozy. Just as I thought, it's the perfect spot to chill.

Trey: Ah, I see… You just needed a partner so you could hang here in the sports lounge.

Leona: So, how well do you know the rules of billiards?

Trey: Let me think… I've only played a couple times, but I have a general understanding of the rules.

Leona: Good. That makes my life easier.

Leona: Then… Let's go with the "rotation" variant.

Trey: Rotation…? What's the rules to that? Is that different from "eightball"?

Leona: In rotation pool, you score points based on the number on the ball pocketed.

Leona: The 1 ball scores you 1 point, the 15 ball scores you 15 points… And so on.

Leona: To win, we both try striking the balls and try to reach the points value determined beforehand. That's all.

Trey: Okay… That sounds a tad more difficult than the eightball game I know, where you just have to get the 8 ball in, but it sounds interesting.

Leona: Ordinarily, I'd set the target value to somewhere around 180 points… But it's a pain to try to calculate everything.

Leona: Let's keep this game simple and see who can get the most points in the first rack of 15 balls.

Leona: If you're good, we'll start.

Leona: So, I'm first up. Similar to eightball, we begin with the break shot, but…

Leona: Before I do that, I'll tell you an interesting tidbit about rotation pool.

Trey: Tidbit…?

Leona: Just like eightball, with rotation rules, the balls must be struck in order from the lowest number.

Leona: In other words, in the first half of the game, when there's more balls on the table and it's more difficult, you score less points, and in the later half, when there's less balls and it's easier, you can score higher.

Leona: Even if you have a bad first half, you can still turn things around later, and even if you're winning in the first half, you can lose it all in the end.

Leona: Basically means that even beginners have a shot at winning. Not a bad rule, huh?

Trey: Yeah. Except… Why did you decide to tell me that just now?

Leona: It'd be a pain if you thought I was being unfair just because I got a huge lead in the beginning without explaining everything.

Leona: I'm puttin' in the effort to make it fun for you amateur, too. Be grateful.

Leona: Number 15, left rear pocket.

[clack!!]

[thwump]

Leona: Hm, some of the balls were awkwardly placed, but I made it through somehow.

Trey: Urgh… Y-You won again…!

Leona: Ah, my bad. I completely forgot you were here too. Sorry I was neglecting you.

Trey: Based on how you were talking about it all, I assumed you were pretty good from the get go, but…

Trey: I couldn't keep up with you at all. It ended before I could get in a single point…

Leona: You had me a bit worried that I could lose midway through the game, but once we got it started, it was a complete blowout. Ah, yeah, that was a good game.

Trey: You were worried? Yeah right! You were yawning every time it was my turn.

Leona: So, what do you say, wanna play another round? I can give you a handicap.

Trey: Well, I can't stand for being shown up like this...

Trey: Play one more game with me, Leona. Only… You don't have to give me a handicap.

Leona: Perfect. Alright, we'll set up the break shot.

[Playful Land – Cue Sports Lounge]

Trey: Play one more game with me, Leona. Only… You don't have to give me a handicap.

Leona: Perfect. Alright, we'll set up the break shot.

Leona: Number 8, left rear pocket.

[clack!!]

[thwump]

Leona: Hm, the location of the 8 ball was in a difficult spot, but I got it somehow.

Trey: The score stands at 36 to 0… Even if I still have a chance to turn things around it's still a huge gap. Maybe he'll just carry it all to the end again…

Leona: Safety.

Trey: What's "safety"...?

Leona: It's a call that lets you drive the targeted ball to somewhere other than a pocket, instead of having to change up players.

Trey: I see, so you can move the ball safely without having to make a crazy shot… That's a good strategy.

[clack!!]

Leona: Okay, it's your turn. Make this fun for me, Trey.

Trey: Next… Number 10, right rear pocket.

[clack!!]

[thwump]

Trey: Nice, I sunk the 10 ball as well as the 9 ball. That makes it 36 to 19. You starting to sweat a bit?

Leona: Oh, man, yeah. You've caught up so fast, that I'm sweating like crazy. I might lose, whatever should I do?

Trey: Haha, you're not fooling me, saying it like that while you just lounge in your chair like a king… Number 11, left rear pocket.

[clack!!]

Leona: …That one ain't goin' in.

[thup, thup…]

Trey: Urgh, just like you said. But how did you know it wouldn't go in before you even saw where it was going?

Leona: Hey, come on, now, I may be me, but I still lead the magical shift club, y'know. Seems like you're underestimating what I can do.

Leona: It's easy to tell just by seeing the angle you hit the cue ball with.

Leona: I can figure out which way the ball will go, what it'll hit, and where it'd stop…

Leona: In a game, you always have to stay two moves ahead, lil' Clover. …Now it's my turn.

[clack!! thwump]

Leona: Game and match. Final score is 87 to 33, that's my win.

Trey: I knew it would be like this, but you definitely had me by the tail the whole time. How long have you been playing billiards, Leona?

Leona: Basically since I was a kid. The family chamberlain taught it to me so I wouldn't embarrass myself in social settings. Well...

Leona: Thanks to that, I got pretty good, but back before I enrolled here, I really couldn't enjoy any heated competition.

Leona: Even now, the only one that'll play with me is a bird-brained old man. Nowhere near satisfying.

Trey: A commoner like me can only possibly imagine…

Trey: But with how good you are, I can see how you'd have to hold back in certain gatherings so as to not sour the atmosphere.

Leona: There ain't nothing more boring and annoying than a game where I gotta hold back for my opponent's sake.

Leona: It ends up feeling like my hands and feet have strings tying them down, it's frustrating. Kind of like a puppet.

Trey: …Yeah, I bet. …Then, I'll make sure that I'll become a much better player before the next time we play.

Leona: Hah! The next time we play? Even though you got a beat down by someone who was just trying to pass the time? You're a sucker for punishment.

Trey: Next time, let's invite the other third years. Don't you think Vil or Lilia might be good competition for you?

Leona: Who knows. …But hey, if you think that'll be the case, I'll be eagerly awaiting.

Leona: Eagerly awaiting for the joyful moment where I can watch how you all'd dance for me in your frustrations when you get beaten to a pulp, that is.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #trey clover #twst leona #twst trey #twst translation #twst stage in playful land #mention: vil #mention: lilia

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laivi · 6 days

Text

— " (I'M) WAITING FOR THE SUN "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: dazai osamu & reader.

SYNOPSIS: it was just a single string, so thin it could easily be cut with scissors, however, with just that mere red thread, it tied you to him.

tags ➜ alternate universe — modern, no abilities, painter!reader, writer!dazai dreams, pining, generally a fluff, soulmates trope, catching feelings, open ending, named reader — only last name though, dazai osamu is bad with feelings implication. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: I wanted to try something new and the first thing that came in my mind was soulmates trope.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

You have always been a dreamer.

Oftentimes you would drift away from your surroundings into an imaginary world, your sense of reality blurring away.

In that world you would feel relaxed, happy and at peace even if it's for merely a few minutes. A world where you could erase everyday from your mind and form an illusion of something you were unable to grasp, a world filled with colors and beauty.

It's bittersweet.

And although it's painful knowing these are nothing more but surreal fantasies, hopes and dreams it's worth it in the end.

However—as of late, your daydreams changed into a one singular daydream that, for whatever reason, keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Day or night, in the painting room or in the peace of your room, whenever you close your eyes, be it a ten minute nap or eight hours of sleep the same scenario will play in front of your eyes over and over again.

Sun will shine its way through the grass as your fingers brush against your creamy white lace dress. Birds will sing their song to which you'll hum under your breath as the fruity smell of just bloomed flowers lingers in the air.

You'll sing and dance and laugh as if you're the only one in the world.

Then after a while you'll approach a big cherry tree in bloom, and suddenly you won't be alone anymore. There, in front of that very tree, will stand a person with chocolate colored brown hair carried by the wind, wearing a white button up shirt along with black trousers.

They'll look in the distance, seemingly unfazed and each time and even after twenty times you've seen the ending, you would approach them slowly when—as if on cue the person will turn around and you would freeze up at your spot, your heart skipping a beat because in front of you will stand the most beautiful human you have ever encountered. For a moment, they'll lock eyes before they vanish into the air, leaving no trace behind.

Then you'll twitch, snapping back to reality.

bleary and cloudy, immense hues of darkness lay hold of your sight, then as the starch gradually settles to the bottom and the skim rises to the top, at last your eyes wearily open—unable to remember his face.

It's as if when their eyes lock everything fades and your brain stops. It's weird and the more times it happens the more annoying it gets.

The person in your dreams feels familiar yet so out of reach. Like you've known them your entire life but hasn't even met them yet, as if the two of you were tied by a red thread of fate.

His presence is strong. Unique. Strange.

You can remember the way the smell of carnations surrounded him, the way his chocolate colored brown hair rode on the breeze, the way they were so tall you almost felt embarrassed standing near him but you can't, for the love of god, remember their face.

You feel their stare on your face. You know that your eyes lock each time and that each time they do your heart skips a beat. You know it and yet you can't pinpoint even the most obvious things, like their color.

You want to know more and everytime that you feel like you're getting closer to discovering something, you would get pulled out of the state of unconsciousness, snapping you back into reality.

It was as if it was mocking you, laughing at the anger it was giving you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, hands balling into a fist.

You ha—

The sound of wood splitting in half brought you back into reality, disrupting the scrambles of thoughts beginning to form within your mind.

huh ?

You lift your head, met with the sight of your paintbrush splitted into two. The other half of the paintbrush falls, accompanied with the sound of thud.

Your lips, which were previously formed into a thin line, parted.

"nazoki, did you just break your brush?"

you tense up. you feel everyone's eyes shift to your frame, hushed whispers accompanied with snickers filling the room. sweat builds up on your hands as the giggles continued, and you bit down on your lip, hovering your gaze on your thighs.

"It can be easily fixed but remember, that's not your own and you need to learn how to be careful with the brushes."

meekly, you dipped your head in response.

"yes ma'am..."

❀

It was already late when you arrived back home.

The sun had gone down, and the skies embraced by hues of warm colors had turned into vast of blackness already.

You didn't change out of your clothes, with the fatigue beginning to overtake your body, you didn't bother to do so.

You gently unlocked the door to your room and slipped inside.

you were greeted with pure abyss, which was anticipated since it was already night. however, there was still some disinctive things within the shadows, like the books sheltered on the shelves, the roses in the vase on the nightstand, and the paintings in the corner of your room.

you perk up.

you moved, walking towards to the empty canvas at the corner of your room.

In front of you, you laid down an empty white canvas and some newly bought paint from few days ago. without a second thought you started painting. You didn't know what you were going for just yet but you settled on just letting your hand move freely across the canvas.

One stroke then another—you paint sky, petals and a silhouette.

So far it's turning pretty decent but the more you draw the more anxious you became. The brush in your hand starts shaking as you reached out to paint the silhouette's face.

...

What now?

Cold sweat runs down your face and you had to take a moment to snap back to reality. Suddenly your stomach fills with dread and you had to take a break from painting.

The face. You couldn't remember the face.

You didn't finish the painting that day.

❀

There is no need for you to open your eyes because when you came to your own senses, feeling grass beneath your palms as the sun beams directly in your face, you knew exactly where you were.

Despite going to sleep in a bad mood you can't help but feel strangely relaxed now that you're here.

Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and took a look around. Nothing, as far as you're aware, has changed. It's still the same dreamy place you visit everyday (sometimes even multiple times).

Birds are still singing, the sun is still shining and the flowers are still blooming.

After a short walk you find out the unknown person is also still here, simply staring at the distance.

You freeze in place and simply admires them from afar, staring at their back profile.

They stand there unbothered.

You take a big risk of walking up to them—not too close but not as far in an attempt to get a better view. Nothing.

You're scared.

Then you get a crazy idea.

Now you're terrified.

Quickly, before you get a chance to make a cowardly decision and back up, you ran towards the person and grabs their wrist, not giving them enough time to turn around.

First thing that you felt is warmth. Their skin is warm.

You lift your head head and meets their face that is now painted with a shocked expression, lips parted. When your eyes meet you felt fear, surprise, shock, happiness, anxiety all at once because you've finally caught them.

Then all emotions swirling within your chest dulls and the person slips away, disappearing from your grip once again.

❀

First thing, you did when you woke up is rush towards the canvas and frantically attempts to copy down the face, that expression of surprise and alarm, as similar as possible before eventually it too leaves your mind.

However it doesn't turn out anything like you've seen just a few moments prior. The expression on its own looks pretty amazing and the face is really unique, not quite like anything you've drawn before, but it's not his.

Shit.

Why? why couldn't you do it?

You were so close and yet—

You slipped up.

You didn't get it. You needed to remember. You didn't know why.

All you knew is that this person drives you crazy.

❀

Surrounding you, there was variety of pages of papers, canvas, multiple art supplies.

You pull out canvas after canvas messing up, repainting, scrapping, breaking, trying again, over and over again but nothing feels right.

Before long, what little memory of the person's face is left in your memory vanishes leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. You fall to your knees, gripping the paintbrush in your palm firmly, cursing yourself. Why? Why couldn't you remember?

It continues like this for a while. After every nap you would pull out your sketchbook, which has by now found its new place under your pillow, and try to sketch the face but each and every time you'd be met with another failed attempt.

It felt like a curse of some sort. Wanting to remember but not being able to. Wanting to know but not being able to meet. Wanting to understand but not being able to learn.

You've tried many different ways. You tried jumping him. You tried running into him. You tried approaching him slowly. Sometimes you'd lock eyes with him, sometimes he'd disappear the moment they establish physical contact. You'd sketch day and night but you just couldn't nail it.

Slowly but noticeably a pile of crumpled up paper in your trash can started increasing. So far you've ruined three canvases and wasted almost an entire sketchbook which gave her an confrontation from your roommate, both from the trash and the one canvas you borrowed from her.

"If you need canvas, please just buy one for yourself. I'm gonna get scolded by my mother."

"the trash can in your room is starting to overflow with trash... some of the trash are even on the floor already, please dispose of them if you can. I don't know what you're trying to do but you should give it a little break, it doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere either way."

you've apologized multiple times for it, but in spite of her intentions being different, the painful truth behind her words pierces through your heart like an arrow. You weren't not getting anywhere that much is right but she's trying.

you were trying so hard because for the first time in a while you had a goal set in mind.

That night you didn't bother the guy. Instead, you sat down leaning on that big tree watching him stand just a few meters ahead of you.

You haven't given up of course but god you were tired. you sigh, releasing the tension in your body, closing your eyes beneath the tree's shadow.

You didn't know what you expected but someone snapping you out of your thoughts you sitting next to you was not it.

For a moment, you were too scared to look aside because this is a rare opportunity and you couldn't mess this up and yet at the same time you could wake up at any moment so if you were to waste this it would eat you up from inside for days. Anxiously, you moved your head and catches sight of the brown haired individual's side profile. It's the sight so dazzling you suck in your breath and bites your lip and just stares.

Every time you visit, you noticed a small detail you haven't before. Like how they shift from one leg to the other when the cold breeze brushes against their concealed arms, you wondered if it was really that cold for him, or how messy his hair was, you could've presumed he didn't take care of himself.

Today, you notice his eyes are shimmering brown, bright and full of life, no . they weren't full of life, they were filled with pure abyss, barely reflecting any source of tiny sparks. He was tired, lonely, and empty. You wondered how long they spent in this realm. Does he have a home? What's his story and how did he end up here? Just now after you take a good look at them, you started questioning all those things. Up until now all you knew was that they were here each time you fell asleep and that your face gets red and your heart skips a beat whenever you get near.

For the first time that you stared at them for more than two seconds, you started noticing all the little details. His bone structure, every single lash on his eye, even how messy his hair was. You take a mental note of it and stares for so long that you didn't even realize he might've feel awkward until they cough and move their face to the side, hiding their face a little bit further with the locks of his hair.

"I'm sorry."

You speak up slowly.

You wonder if he was even real.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, cold, suffocating silence.

He gives her a side eye but don't say a word. You, not knowing how to react, just stares. You stare back, drowning in their eyes, not even realizing how close they've gotten to each other.

You have drawn many portraits of many different people up until this point in your life. The beauty of it all is that every person is different, unique and beautiful in their own way. Each painting you did is special because it's not like any other. That's, in your opinion, the beauty of this world. Even now, this person that might be nothing more than a fragment of your wild imagination is unlike any other you've met.

They are so beautiful it made you sick. Not just their physical appearance but their aura and their company. The way when their hands touch it sends an electric shock through your body or the way you get all warm and fuzzy inside when you were near him.

you swallowed down a thick saliva, forcing yourself to speak again, you didn't know what you were gonna say but with the tense atmosphere between the two of you, you wanted to ease it up, thus allowing the words in your throat to carry out.

"Hey."

The boy shifts his gaze towards you upon your call, moving his head along his gaze. You feel the hue of light red beginning to adorn your cheeks as soon he turns his head to your direction.

You fidgeted with your fingers, "You're a very pretty person."

You could feel his stare on you, but he didn't utter a single word.

"When I say pretty, I don't mean it just at that... you're so pretty that I could be with you all day just to watch the cherry blossom tree's bright pink light glow on your skin and how it brings out a million subtle sparks of color in your eyes, and In the evening, I could draw you all night long until I have no more strength, and when it's finally night with the moon, I could close my eyes to remember the day going by as a reflection of you."

as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how close your faces were with just a few centimeters apart from each other. you two were so close, It distilled a warm fuzzy feeling within your chest.

"you're quite talkative."

for once within several dreams, he finally uttered a single word, and just the mere sound of his voice made you speechless. he leans his head slightly closer and you couldn't help but think that your faces will crash. you were sure your faces will crash and you're scared if they do the universe as we know will explode but the world collapses before you could get a chance to blink and suddenly you were panting in the pitch dark of an all too familiar room.

❀

They say everything comes with its good and bad sides so you presumed the same must go for this entire situation too.

If it were up to you, you'd say the good thing is you finally finished your painting. After so much time and effort you have finally created something you're satisfied with.

Bad, or rather unfortunate, thing is that the next time you went to sleep you didn't dream at all. At first you thought it was a mistake so you pulled her blanket over your frame and went to sleep again despite the morning sun desperately trying to climb on your bed through the closed windows and your roommate gently knocking on your door.

Nothing.

After a few more times of not being able to wake up in that imaginary world of yours, you started to freak out a little. It was understandable though. When you spend so much time somewhere, so much that it turns into a habit, it's only natural to get worried when it abruptly stops with no sign whatsoever.

For now you'll just have to learn to adjust to your new reality.

❀

It has been a year since you last dreamed of that dream.

you struggled to accept the truth, occasionally glancing at the painting you've finished right after your last dream. however, as time passed by, you managed to divert your attention to much more important things, slowly forgetting the world you would often dream off.

you didn't know whether you liked it or not but you supposed it was fine since a lot of great opportunities were beginning to appear to you.

"That's why nazoki-san, we would love to invite you as a guest artist for our next gallery showcase!" Words were ringing in your ears like an echo. There were thousands and one emotion flowing through her body. Excitement, joy, disbelief, anxiety and so much more.

Finally, It's finally happening. You couldn't help but think to yourself. All that hard work and effort is finally paying off.

When you got a call from a nearby gallery asking for someone with your last name, you presumed it was for your mother, a professional artist who had few of her works showcased there, that's why the first thing you felt when they said it's you they needed was confusion.

You've been drawing for years, joined many different art courses and took many drawing classes, participated in many events but getting an offer to have some of your work showcased in a big, professional and well-known gallery for one of their events was something new—a step closer to achieving your dream.

Of course, you didn't hesitate and swiftly agreed to the offer.

It's only when it came time to choose your best work you got a tad uncertain about which paintings to pick.

You decided to go for one landscape drawing, one abstract and one portrait.

Choosing a landscape and abstract was easy, you simply chose your most recent work, a work which, by chance, was seen by her classmates and some teachers and received tons of compliments.

Choosing a portrait was a bit harder though—there was just so much diversity between your models you'd feel bad choosing one out of many other, just as beautiful, ones.

You dig through the canvases in an attempt to find a perfect one when your hands suddenly brush against the beige fabric pulled over one of the canvases, hiding it from view.

A drop of cold sweat rolls down your neck as you uncover the familiar painting. It's still the same as you left it a year ago.

When your dreams stopped you felt as if you lost a part of yourself. Being unable to face the painting you worked so hard on, you ended up covering it up and leaving it to collect dust in the pile of canvases.

Even now when you looked at it, a part of you feels like sinking but the feeling of dread is easily outshined with the feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

you decided which portrait to bring to the event.

❀

More people have visited the event than you had originally planned, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Almost. All the praise you got made up for it.

You would be lying if you said you didn't like to be praised. You loved the words of affirmation, to hear someone from a higher level acknowledge her efforts and make sure you're on the right track.

You were silently lurking in the crowd the entire day, starting conversations when you'd get the chance, giving speeches about her art.

You talked and talked, over and over again, repeating what you've already said over twenty times by now and every group so far would listen carefully. Seeing them genuinely interested in your work made it all worthwhile.

Soon enough, night fell and people started leaving one by one, saying their goodbyes. It's a shame that the day has come to an end but if you're lucky maybe you will get more chances like this in the near future.

"nazoki-san!" One of the gallerys workers approaches you, "Would you mind picking up your work? I still have some guests to see off."

"Alright! Thank you so much again!" You bow down your head before you make your way to the hall where your work has been showcased up until now. It was a part of their agreement that when the event is over you'll get to bring your paintings back home.

When you step foot into the room, however, you find you weren't not alone. Almost like a deja-vu, in front of her stands a familiar brown haired person with their back turned towards you, in his hand, he held a book, it seemed like he was looking for some inspiration.

Your heart sinks.

Immediately, you stop in your tracks.

How?

Blood in your veins freezes as the cold sweat starts dripping down your face. It can't be…could it?

"E-excuse me-e—" you tried to speak up but your voice breaks in the most embarrassing way possible.

The person twitches in surprise, turning around with a startled expression on their face and it's the same damn expression you saw that day when you first grabbed their hand. you swear it is. It has to.

The person points an index finger to himself, tilting his head to the side, "Me?" as soon as you heard that voice, you knew damn well it was.

For a short moment their eyes lock. It's the same chocolate colored eyes holding the same lonesome warmth and oh you want to rush towards them at full speed and tackle them to the ground but youi calm yourself down and continues to talk, "We're closing."

Your voice comes off stronger and steadier this time but the hint of nervousness can still be distinguished.

"Oh… I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

So much happened today. You talked a lot, you walked a lot and on top of that you woke up early with only three hours of sleep the night prior, perhaps you're just imagining things. Maybe you're daydreaming again. But his voice sounds so real and you can see them so vividly even with you vision blurry from exhaustion.

There is so much you wanted to know, how, why, what, when, huh?? you heard stories about people's dreams coming true, about how some met people in their dreams but you never imagined anything so…extraordinary happening to you. But here you were with so many questions lingering in your head and so little time so you decided fuck it no matter what happens this time, no matter what kind of story your faith is writing, whatever happens in this timeline you weren't letting them go again.

The chocolate haired person gives you a warm smile, although, It looked a bit forced, you didn't say anything as he turns back to glance at the painting in front of them one last time.

"I was just thinking about how this painting looks a lot like me."

Your knees buckle up underneath you.

Weak .

you felt weak.

but you couldn't even focus on that, all you could focus on was how the person you've been longing for was indeed right in front of you.

and with that, the interlude halts.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.

2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you. reblogs and likes are appreciated.

#♱ 𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗜 ::#★ works .ᐟ #dazai x reader #beastzai x reader #beast dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

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andraxicated · 2 years

Text

Inazuma drift

Pairings: Itto, Ayato, Kazuha, Thoma, Heizou x f! reader

Synopsis: Inazuma men in the world of racing

a/n: let us say goodbye to inazuma while waiting for the sumeru daddies😗 btw i know nothing about cars.

reblogs are so much appreciated!

reading all of them is not required but they're somehow connected

Itto

got into racing because of him having to pay his fines at the police station. his boys was the one that suggested to try underground racing despite Shinobu's disapproval. do they ever listen to her? no.

Itto wished he did tho. she was right, because on the first night he challenged someone to a race to own their awesome, shiny car...he fucking lost and was dubbed the "newbie with balls". but that was all in the past, because now he was the new DK. from being a newbie with balls, he became the Drift King.

he certainly had come a long way and now practically owns the world of underground racing. but everything just gets a little too tiring when you're not with him. Itto knocks on your door, expecting for you to greet him with a bear hug yet your sour face and cleavage comes to view.

"hey...what's the matter?" "you don't know?" you ask as if he's lost his mind and crossed your arms. turns out he's missed his date with you on your day off and you have work tomorrow; shutting the door in his face yet his bulky figure blocks it from closing. "baby...let me explain!" he shouts and groans in pain from your intentional squeezing of him against the door.

aside from being crazy good at drifting, he's also good at making it up to you! the drift king was humbled to a waiting mess as his cock throbs in his pants from your raised dress, crotchless panty staring right at him. he swears he always makes the wrong decisions when he could've had your pussy earlier than spend hours behind the wheel.

your sharp heel mockingly jabs at his chest, crossed arms and an unsatisfied expression on your face. "go on" you instruct, and that was his cue to press a kiss on your ankle, his hand immediately coming up to your inner thigh to play. "ah..." you let out a breathy moan when his lips slide all the way from your ankle to your thigh, leaving a wet trail on its path. your hole quivers from him being so close to you that it caught Itto's attention, dead-set on giving you the best orgasm of your life.

his head settles properly between your thighs, massaging the flesh while giving you an apologetic smile. "let me make it up to you. later, we'll talk when you're not angry." he says before going down and hiding himself beneath your dress; a wet muscle oh so familiar inside you, wastes no time licking and cleaning your wetness. Itto kisses and eats you out like he's repenting for his sins, his goddess pushing his head deeper for more. "mhmmmhm" you couldn't understand a word he was humming against your folds, yet you knew the vibrations almost brought you to your high; perhaps it was his verbal apology?

Ayato

you bet ayato was one of those rich brats who loved to compete with each other with their fancy cars and drifting skills. he used to be so reckless, worrying his parents, his sister, and you. a mere family friend who would so often trail behind his sister and blush at every smile he throws your way. he thought you were cute like a puppy and so he would often take you to eat afternoon snacks with him after school. but after his father's death, a sudden responsibility fell into his hands that he was simply too busy to acknowledge you. returning to the corporate world meant you had to distance yourself for good, and it was fine. your teenage crush on him was the highlight of those years that passed by.

coming back to inazuma after years had you facing a problem with ayaka. she had a desperate expression on her face, clasping your hands in hers as she says "please convince my brother to stop". stop what? then you're suddenly informed of his reckless hobby coming back. now standing in front of his penthouse, you almost dropped the cookies you brought when he opened the door. wearing only a bathrobe, wet hair looking messy and the sweet smell of soap hitting you like a truck. you're shamelessly staring at him until he recognizes who the fuck was standing at his door. "(y/n)?" he looked surprised that the little friend he had back then was the stunning woman in front of him today.

you exchanged stories until you told him why ayaka sent you there. the mood taking a turn for the worse as he lets out an exasperated sigh. "i understand her concern but please tell her everything is fine. it's a fairly safe sport." he coaxes you with a hand over yours, caressing your knuckles as you feel ticklish uneasiness. and god, ayato felt so fucking perverted! he almost felt guilty for stealing glances at your body and observing you like a feast. but it's not like you didn't do the same...

caught in the middle of an incoming sibling fight, you don't know what to do. and so you take a cab to his apartment, ringing the doorbell and seeing his frustrated face melt away at the sight of you; it makes you wonder if it held any meaning. "you're back here again." his stern voice startled you as his hostility sunk your heart. everything felt heavy that you can't look him in the eye, fearing to see his angry gaze. he must've been annoyed by ayaka's constant attempt of stopping his racing through you. yet what better way to release his frustrations than destroying the messenger? literally.

"i was right that you wear this kind of panties". his finger bottomed inside you flicking, while the other hand pinned both of your wrists, brushing your hair against your face. your lace panty with the little ribbon was pushed to the side, and your best friend's brother pressed kisses against your neck that was sure to bruise. "ayato stoppp." you whine mindlessly, half of your working brain remembering that those hickeys will be very evident in the morning. "you sure?" his tone was condescending as he inserted another finger stuffing you full. some of your juices squelching lewdly as you could only bite your lip while he smirks.

all the frustrations in life were released on you as ayato pinned you against the bed in a mating press. your thighs against your chest as he kept on thrusting from above. his cock was sore but he couldn't stop from gliding against your delicious heat, fully willing to release inside you and trap you with a child. "it isn't your first time huh? then quit being shy you whore." ayato was soo mad when you admitted to having someone else touch you before :(( he knew you first and so he should have been the one to claim you! he sighs as he keeps on entering your tired body, listless eyes below him and he keeps on thinking if somebody else saw you debauched like that.

"i'm not gonna stop if you let one drop out of you" he commands and you instinctively clench your walls, trying to keep his cum inside even if some of it spills from his continuous thrusting. the sensation of your pussy sucking him further has him hovering over you and kissing you silly, and his cock twitched, exploding its warmth inside you for the umpteenth time that night. ayato stays for a while plugged inside you, bringing your spent body over his for a cuddle. "do you think a niece or nephew will help her anger?"

Kazuha

you would think he's a pen-and-paper type of guy. Poetry incarnate as people sneakily take pictures of him and his book on campus. Yet what people don't know is that behind those cute and soft sweatshirts of his, he trades them for leather jackets at midnight.

kazuha doesn't actually enjoy racing, sure it's fun to beat people who arrogantly challenge him but he'd prefer to coop up in the warmth of your bed and the intimate silence of your room. you were all he could think about as he sits on the hood of the car, swatting touchy hands as his friends converse with fellow enthusiasts. and after spacing out for a few minutes, there it is...his challenge for the night.

a shout of his name arrogantly rings from the opposing side, kazuha then matches the cocky energy while jumping off the hood, a smirk etched on his lips. kazuha swears after he beats this guy's ass, he'll head straight for your house. and there he finds himself panting, fumbling with the keys you gave him for your door.

yet before he could find out which key was right, the door opens to you engulfing him in a bear hug. " 'zuha!" your voice was muffled against his jacket and he chuckles while embracing you with the same enthusiasm. "(y/n)!" he drawls out your name playfully while you two sway each other in a blissful embrace, resting his head on your shoulder with his hand stroking your hair.

"you've been so busy lately..." "i told you you can hang around while i'm reviewing but you didn't even come" you whine while kazuha's deft hands slowly pull up your sweater past your raised arms, revealing your black bra and the sight of your mounds. you thought you would be more into rough handling but you can't deny the effect kazuha has when he's softly tracing his hands all over your body. glancing at you from below to gauge your reactions.

"kazuha—ah!" you could only moan with your jaw slack as you sink down on his cock, his pants zipper open and the clothing hanging low, he didn't even bother to take it off! but the sight of your breasts bouncing even covered was enough to get him riled up for more. kazuha bit his lip and hissed, thrusting faster into your cervix from the sweet expression on your face. "fucking hell (y/n), why are you so damn tight..." he groaned, gripping your waist to meet him halfway in shaky motions.

it was tiring to be constantly on top, your thighs were burning and pools of cum felt sticky and hot on your center. yet the boy below doesn't have any plans to stop any time now. you took a glance at him and saw the fire in his eyes and felt the sly twitching of his member. "why are you so worked up?" you couldn't help but ask since he normally would stop when you're tired, opting to cuddle and bathe you. but have you seen yourself through his eyes? you looked so damn good above him! even in the afterglow of sex where your hair was messy, beads of sweat on your face, and absent-mindedly tilting your head while asking him. yeah, he'd definitely want more if his girlfriend was this hot.

Thoma

he wandered around inazuma for god knows how long, picking up odd jobs here and there just to sustain his pitiful attempt at starting over. it wasn't until the son of the restaurant owner he's working for felt bad about thoma's life story. and then on one rowdy night with an arm slung over his back, he's suddenly thrown into the world of racing just as he's playfully shoved behind the wheels. "wait i can't drive!" "dude, you're going to be fine!"

thoma was forced to risk his life and the borrowed car all for that 1% chance of winning the race. god, he felt so humiliated after but the boys who brought him there just patted his back rather harshly. they kept on saying it's fine but thoma knows it wasn't. he's prepared for the things coming his way from falling in with the wrong crowd.

juggling restaurant work and housework for that family was tiring yet he stayed. perhaps it was destiny working for him that he got to meet you while thinking about turning in his resignation. "excuse me, is there anyone home right now?" your sudden voice had goosebumps rising, his shoulders flinching as a painful shock was sent straight to his heart. thoma turned around to see who it was and he swore his breath hitched—like he can't breathe.

aside from your pretty face, his eyes naturally darted over your body; top that's barely holding your boobs, your cute tummy exposed by the crop top, and the absurdly tight miniskirt that left no room for imagination. thoma's a man, after all, his shorts pathetically tightened with one glance at you because you looked insanely good! the type he wants to bend over—" um excuse me?" you raised your voice a bit to garner his attention, eyes squinting as the man scratches his neck and nodded. "yes, young master is over there. let me lead you." a lustful scan of your body would have earned a slap but this one's an exception...he's just too hot! you can't deny the forming patch of wetness as you kept on admiring from behind.

you were just a classmate who went once for a project but seeing their cute housekeeper had you faking friendships just to get closer to thoma. now you're getting dragged to underground races that were too rowdy for your liking, yet you had to keep up and act like it wasn't boring you out. but when it was thoma's turn who seriously sat behind the wheel, you can't help the cheshire grin forming on your lips.—the race was upsettingly dirty:(( the opponent kept on colliding purposely into thoma's car while your man still chose to play nice. even though he expectedly lost, his good boy act tugged at your heartstrings and you simply decided to reward him for being so good♥︎you can't stand the sight of him being down.

"(y/n)!" he looked shocked to see you that he stood up and cans of beer fell along. to say he's embarrassed from the race and you seeing him drinking his ass off near a river was an understatement. he was beyond humiliated. and you know what could cheer him up as his sticky gazes didn't go unnoticed. "you did well." your sweet voice made blood rush to his cock as quickly as he forgot his somber. what was he sad about? coz this little display of you slowly kneeling in front of him had his eyes zeroed in on you. nothing else mattered but the sound of his zipper and the freeing of his huge member. "let me make you feel good...my champion." you coo before going down his cock and thoma throwing his head back in delight.

you sucked him off so good that tears edged on his eyes. his bulbous tip deliciously filling your mouth, prodding on your throat as you go down and try to take him in. teeth lightly grazing against the skin brought shudders to thoma's body as he instinctively caught your hair and pushed you closer to his waist. "f-fuck, i'm so sensitive" he breathed out as your tongue slid from the base to the tip, obscenely engulfing the rest of his cock while staring up at him. he felt so wanted by your moans, your warm cavern, and your glossy gaze. he already forgot what happened earlier but you had to jab it in him and destroy his fantasy. "you always looked so cute losing." you say while in between his cock, pulling off with a pop when he's red and ready to release. "but i want you to cum inside me not my mouth."

Heizou

currently in the middle of a chase was not how you expected your night to go. during lunch break where he chanced upon you alone in the pantry, he sheepishly asked you if you wanted to go out tonight. you almost dropped the coffee bun out of your mouth if not for the teeth that held onto the bread, saving you the embarrassment in front of your workplace crush. heizou was perfect in your eyes, his handsome looks added on top of his strong pursuit for justice. but that same thing you loved about him ended up being the one you hate. he was an avid pursuer of justice even on your date. so when his eyes notice something wrong, you could only tighten your hold on your coat for you know what's going to happen.

this was going to be a failed night as your eyes gloom and your heart sinks. forcing yourself to stand behind heizou as he questions the troubled citizen. you wished he would've noticed how down you were or how good you looked. "(y/n) hurry up! we can't let them escape!" he says while running through alleyways both crowded and empty. has it ever occurred to him that you're wearing heels? your blood is boiling amidst the cold air that you stop running and just watch him turn into a tiny dot. you sigh and pull out your phone, clicking heizou's name and dialing him.

in the same area somewhere, heizou keeps running while fumbling his jacket for his phone. he answers and asks "who is this?" and his voice was breathy on your side, making you roll your eyes. "check the name." your voice stung that he suddenly slowed down and looked at his phone, looked behind him, and gulped before nervously saying "(y/n) where are you?" "i know where they are headed, i'll send the location." "okay, where should we meet?" "we won't. i'll go there first." "wait!-" and you hung up and left a bitter feeling in his stomach. heizou groans to the sky before slamming his head to his hands.

he's welcomed by the rowdy and noisy venue of underground racing in inazuma. he wanted to question how you know this place but judging from how people waved when you passed by, you were a frequenter of the sport. "there. those guys are the ones you're looking for." you pointed at the glee ones with their friends, and heizou comes in being a party pooper just as you expected. his ask for the cooperation of a complaint made by a citizen was met with hostile refusal by the guy. they were now at each other's throats with a crowd forming around them as you stood watching them.

yet this guy suddenly called attention to you by shouting your name, everyone's gaze transferring to you. "hey (y/n)? this your boyfriend?" "no." you reply. "then he must be a coworker. did you snitch on us you bitch?" underground racing wasn't illegal in inazuma. as long as no damage to property was made and no harm was done. but there had been a complaint about his actions that caused heizou to step up. yet an insult to your face was not one you tolerated, nor did heizou. "what did you say you asshole?" your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when you heard heizou's voice loud and clear, cursing; and the guy dared to reply. "i said what i said, she's a sneaky little bitch!" heizou won't resort to violence even at the point of anger. he'll abide by the rules of the underground and say "if i win a race, i'll cuff your mouth and take you to the station with me."

he's crazy! but your heart was pounding crazier, both from his stupid choice and his defense for you. "heizou, i have a friend who's one of the best. let him race for you." "no thanks. besides i'll be fine, heard the best players left earlier." he says before going to a car that a tall blonde guy lent. "please do us all a favor of removing that insect. he's pretty annoying." he bowed playfully before guiding you to the area where the crowd will be. you mouthed a goodluck before heizou smiled and settled himself in the seat. the race was intensely close yet with an unexpected twist, heizou won against the chosen representative. he had some officers take the guy away while he waited for you to finish talking with your friends. "shall we go now?" he suddenly asked, bringing your attention to him. "where?" "to our date."

oh. he still remembered yet the magic of a romantic atmosphere was gone. "i'm really tired, let's call it a day." you were too tired to be with him and so you left without sparing a glance. on the next day of work that you overtimed, heizou approached while you were busy using the photocopy, standing without speaking until your empty gaze fell on him. "i'm really sorry about yesterday." "it's fine." the shuffle of papers and your curt response was making him uneasy. he knew he had to mend this now. as you're arranging and waiting for the papers, you feel the sudden press of warmth against your back, and your stomach against the machine. "heizou?" your voice heightened as his hand slides from your arms to your waist, inching closer to your center. "(y/n) 'm really sorry. but i want to talk with you. please."

wait. how did a supposed talk go to kisses and messy removal of clothes? moaning wantonly with heizou between your legs was not how you expected your overtime to go, but you gladly welcomed it just like how your hole flutters for his thick fingers. "loose up for me baby" he groans against your skin as you tighten and throb, skirt against the glass of the photocopy. "heizou—we can't!" your words were useless when you kept on moaning like a whore, nails clumping his shirt when he enters a third digit inside your pussy. he unclasps your bra and takes them off your shoulder, lips latching quickly on the hardened nub.

he flicks with his tongue, lolling around while massaging the soft flesh. blessing you with amazing foreplay before you go and beg him to fuck you. then you suddenly enclose his face between your hands, sultry voice purring "heizou 'want you now", there he swore something inside him snapped. he took you off the copy machine, making your back face him as he unzips the skirt harshly and lets it fall while letting out his cock. "don't worry bou't making a noise. we have the whole office to ourselves." he reassures with a sticky kiss to your neck before lining up with your hole, pushing inside as you gasp, hand gripping whatever you could grab.

what's more obscene was your face contorted with pleasure, reflected against the glass surface of the photocopy machine, and the tuft of wine-red hair thrusting behind. signifying that it was your dear heizou fucking you and making up for the lost time.

1K notes · View notes

marvelcriminalhoe · 2 years

Text

His Sinful Devotion

Part 6

Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 Steve is late 30s early 40s), Dark, manipulation, blow job, daddy kink, face fucking, chocking, deep throating, tears, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent, innocent kink, praise kink. Possessive kink. 18+ ONLY I think that’s all? Idk let me know if I’m missing something.

AN: I finally got my account to work! I'm so happy I can get this out now!! anyway here it is. I'm really excited for the part after this one, which will be the moment we've all been waiting for ;) until then, enjoy this :))

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1,675

Steve hadn’t felt this nervous in awhile. He knew everything had to be perfect, he wouldn’t settle for less.

After the week at camp, getting to spend every night with you in his arms, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Having to go back to sleeping alone was the worst and Steve didn’t want to do it anymore, not when he knows what it’s like to sleep next to you now. He didn’t think it could get any better.

He’s also tired of holding himself back, he wants you. Wants to ravish you. He wants to allow himself to completely take you as hard and rough as he wants without this worry. He used to think he had amazing self control until you came into his life, and now he’s tired of holding himself back. He deserves you. You were made to be his perfect, innocent, beautiful wife, and he was tired of not having all of you, all of the time.

He’s also exhausted of playing this small town gentleman roll. The nice church guy act is draining, and the moment he has you completely in his clutches, a ring on your hand, your body claimed by his, the faster he can move out of this small town, somewhere new, and can just live without some type of mask on.

Bucky is close behind him, making leeway with his own girl, and both men are just ready to retire, ready to have that white picket fence, perfect dotting wife, and a couple of kids. The perfect life they’ve always dreamed of having.

And it will all start with you.

And it will all start tonight.

Steve will make sure it’s perfect. You deserve perfect. He loves you, truly. He’s utterly obsessed with you, would stop the world from spinning if you asked him to. He wants everything to be perfect, not because he’s afraid you’ll say no.

He knows you wouldn’t deny him anything.

But because he wants to give you the stars. Wants to give you a memory you’ll look back in fondly every time you’re asked to recall it.

Your parents were thrilled when Steve asked for your hand. He didn’t think he really needed too, he’s played the game well enough to know you’re attached to him, to his will and permission, not your parents. But he still has to wear the mask for a little while longer.

Just until he has you completely.

Steve planned everything and knew it would turn out immaculate, until fucking Sharon opened her mouth.

“Don’t you think this is all a little much?”

Steve’s patience is wearing thin, mostly because he’s so sexually frustrated. Even with getting to explore and touch your body, he hasn’t been able to have it all, to bury his cock balls deep into your into your untouched cunt like he so desperately needs to.

Your mother, being the pastor wife she is, insisted to Steve that the church women would help him prepare and set up everything. Her heart was in the right place he supposes, but having Sharon anywhere near him, especially after that mean girl stunt she pulled at the camp, makes his already waring patience, disappear completely.

“No.” Steve has to physically make his jaw unclench, reminding himself now is not the time to lash out, when other ears are around, “This isn’t even close to being enough, actually. But I need to save something for the wedding and honeymoon.”

The other women coo we him, admiring his love for you and wanting to do such romantic gestures, but the scowl on Sharon’s face only depends, and Steve knows he’s going to have to do something extreme soon to make sure she doesn’t ruin anything for you when it comes to the big day.

He won’t allow anyone to ruin you. Only he’s allowed to do that.

“I think it’s beautiful, Steve.” Your mom pipes up as everyone looks at the set up around the lake. There flower petals lining the ground all the way to the end of the dock, white roses along the railings. Fairy lights align the wall way from the dock to the cabin door. And inside the cabin, is a beautiful diner set up, set for two. Steve picked up the steak dinner from his favorite restaurant before he arrived here to make sure everything was set up exactly as he asked for it to be.

Steve smiles, “Thank you.” Looking at all the women, “And thank you for helping set everything up.”

“Of course. We are so happy you’re going to be apart of the family soon.” Your mother pats his shoulder.

Steve nods, not bothering in telling her he plans on stealing you away from here the moment you say ‘I do’. Theres no need, and even if she knew and wanted to stop it, Steve knows she wouldn’t be able to.

You became his the moment he laid eyes on you.

He doesn’t feel nervous as he picks you up from your house, doesn’t feel nervous as you ask him where you’re going for date night, he doesn’t even feel nervous when he finally pulls up to the front of the cabin, perfect timing, the sun starting to set over the water as he leads you down the path of rose petals.

Your heart starts beating a little faster, knowing something was up the moment Steve answered your questions with a cog smirk or wink. Of course, you could be wrong, Steve is extremely romantic, but the whispers around church revolving your relationship have been growing louder and louder since camp, wedding bells being faintly heard in the air.

It’s something you’ve been thinking about more of as well. If the courtship you and steve have is meant to grow into a marriage. Everyone says it is, says he’s perfect, and he has been nothing but perfect for you. You’ve never experienced a relationship, never experienced anything other than Steve. And even if there was a part of you that was unsure, a part that was scared of a forever type of ending with him, you would ignore it.

Steve is perfect. He is everything to you. He listens to you. Talks to you. He adores you.

And you adore him.

Which is why the yes slips through your lips before your mind even fully registers the question.

You would say yes to anything he asked of you.

Which is also why you say yes when Steve asks if you could do him a favor. He’s been so stressed out with planning everything for you, it’s only right you help him. He loves when you help destress him and you love that you get to repay him for everything he does for you.

So you sit on your knees, just as Steve’s taught you to do, as he stands in front of you, softly caressing your face. You watch as he unbuckles his belt, pulling his slacks down to reveal his hardening cock.

You take it in your hands, warm and throbbing, just as he’s taught you, moving it up and down as you add small kitten licks.

Once it’s wet enough, you kiss the tip, before wrapping your lips around him, sucking the sweet and tangy precum into your mouth, just as he’s taught you, Steve groaning heavily above you.

You remember to look up at him, trying to keep your eyes open as he looks down at you, he’s taught you that he likes it like that, likes watching you, as Steve slowly starts to thrust into your mouth, hands on the side of your head as he goes deeper and deeper down your throat.

The moans Steve let’s out send tingles down your spine, shock waves to course through your body. Steve is an Adonis of a man, a Greek god sculpted into perfection. He’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on, and you can’t believe you get such a reaction from him.

Trying to keep your eyes open as his thrusts grow deeper is hard, his hands move from your cheeks to the back of your head, tangling into your hair, pulling and pushing. Your eyes fill with tears, begging to roll down your cheeks as you gag on the girth of Steve’s cock.

“So good. Such a good girl for me.” Steve rasps out, his voice straining from the feel of your throat constricting around him as he fucks it. He knows he should slow down, not be so rough. Your delicate, an angel, someone that needs to be treated with care and love.

But Steve is pent up from not having you completely, he has to release it somehow before he blows up completely. That, with the knowledge that soon he will get all of you, own all of you, pushes him over the edge, making him fuck your face harder and faster, not caring when your gags get mixed with chocks, or when your tears spill over completely. Not caring that your hair that was done so nicely done for the night, is tangled in his fingers. Not caring when your hands are on his thighs, nails digging into his skin, as he forced your throat to take all of him, over and over.

“You’re mine, right baby? All mine.” He tells you, not stopping his assault as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge, “Forever mine. Fucking mine.”

He comes down your throat with a growl and hard thrust, keeping your head pushed down on him as you try and swallow all of his cum around his cock. When he finally lets you up, he wipes your tears as you catch your breath. Kneeling down so he’s the same height as you.

Steve kisses your forehead, grabbing your hand with the beautiful diamond on it, softly caressing his thumb over it, “I’ll love you forever.” He promises, “I can’t wait until your Mrs.Rogers.”

And you believe him. You’ll always believe him.

Just like he’s taught you to do.

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arachine · 2 years

Text

– 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x hybrid! fem! reader

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: dark content, hybrid!reader, reader w/ oral fixation, oral sex (m receiving), very tame face fucking, mentions of gagging & choking, female masturbation, cum swallowing, dacryphilia (kinda), biting, bunting (basically when cats mark you with their scent), explicit language, a little angsty but i swear i didn’t mean to !!

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a request for kitty!reader having an oral fixation and how’d they prevent it but i got carried away and did my own thing…sorry (not really) + everyone pls thank my sweet baby angel @cocoamoonmalfoy for beta’ing this for me !! this shit was hot garbage before lol :3

+ 𝐰𝐜: 3.5k

+ 𝐝𝐭: my lovelies @snowflakeicicles @ringpop-poppy

trying to control your oral fixation was probably the most difficult thing they ever had to endure in their lives—apart from, you know, saving the world from man-eating monsters, battling evil scientists, and fighting crazy russians—but they still somehow managed to lessen the severity of it.

at first, when it was really bad, you’d nip at almost everything. clothes, shoes, the legs of a table, hands—fingers, especially fingers. those were your favorite to play with. it had gotten to the point where their hands would be absolutely littered in cuts and scratches, and it had become quite troublesome having to explain to their parents how they had gotten them.

so, that’s when they took it upon themselves to invest in some toys. they tried feathers, stuffed animals, fake mice, lasers, balls of yarn—but nothing seemed to ever work. eventually, they’d settle on just indulging you, coming up with more lies, more excuses, more nonsense to silence their parents’ ever-growing curiosity.

“you’re trouble, you know that?” mike scolds, running his fingers over your silky coat. you merely purr in response, the tip of your tail swaying side to side as you continue to suck, bite, and rough up his digits.

“thank god it’s steve’s turn tonight,” he throws his head back against the couch, “because i don’t think my hands can take anymore of this torture.”

“yeah, my mom thinks i’m getting into fights,” dustin pipes, “i mean come on, look at this face. does this look like the kinda face to be getting into fights?”

that’s right, it was steve’s turn today. your favorite chew toy, how could you forget? your mind wanders back to the last time you stayed at his house. how you’d played, slept, cuddled—kissed…and how he’d let you nip and suck on other places, too. just thinking about it was enough to trigger your human form, skin and flesh appearing in mike’s lap.

“mike, mike, when will steve be here!?” you beam, pouncing on his chest. unintentionally, you pierces him with the tip of your claws, the excitement of seeing steve rendering your brain to complete and utter mush.

“jesus, you just poked me,” the boy rubs his chest, “and why are you so excited to see him anyway?” there’s a beat. silence. it was a simple question, actually. could be answered with a ‘no reason’ or a ‘just excited ’s all’—but you choke, and mike finds this strange. odd. he takes notice of the way you avoid meeting his eyes, a tell-tale sign that you were hiding something, but before he can ask about it, heavy feet make their way down the stairs.

“hey, guys.” everyone averts their attention to where the voice is coming from, a chorus of tepid ‘hey’s filling the room.

there it was, that familiar scent. the one that belonged to…

“steve!” you leap from mike’s lap to embrace the brunet, wrapping the length of your legs around his torso. his hands settle on the curve of your lower back, and he smooths over the area soothingly, a soft expression gracing his face.

“ready to go?” you nod enthusiastically, ears shooting up with a quick flutter.

“alright, you know the drill,” steve points to his backpack, gesturing for you to transform and slip inside.

the drive to steve’s is quiet. and it’s even quieter as the two of you trek and traverse through the house and up the stairs to his room. the only time there’s anything but silence is when steve utters a ‘watch your step’, followed by the eerie sound of the wooden floorboards creaking and cracking under weight.

“just us?” you query, falling into step behind him as you enter his bedroom. the door creates a faint draft, and immediately, your nose is flooded with his scent—it’s strong, intense, pleasant. you can smell him everywhere.

“yeahhh, just us.”

nobody’s home, just like all the other times. you never really poked or prodded, but kind of gathered that this wasn’t unusual for him growing up. coming to his house was always a drastic change in environment, it was just so much different than all the others—which was probably because they were kids, and had siblings of their own, and parents who liked them. silence and tranquility was not something they had the privilege of knowing.

steve didn’t mind it, though. actually, he preferred it. with his dad frequently away for work, and his mother accompanying him, it more often than not, left him with an empty house—an empty house that provided him ample opportunity to do whatever the hell he wanted…which sometimes allowed for drinking, throwing parties, and well, bringing home girls. but more specifically, bringing home you.

“blew out the main light, so it’s a little dark in here, sorry about that,” his fingers point up. he ambles over to his desk to turn on the lamp sitting atop it. it’s tiny and only illuminates a portion of the room, but it’s enough to just barely make out the wanes and curves of his face.

your eyes follow him intently as he moves from one corner of the room to another, a piece of his uniform falling to the floor with every step, creating a trail towards his dresser. he’d always changed in front of you, never thought anything about it. and you never thought anything about it either—that is, until recently.

steve had always been just steve. the one who doted on you, the one who tended to your wounds, the one who dedicated almost (if not all) of his time to ensure that you were well and taken care of. but now? now it was different, and you couldn’t quite articulate why.

bare skin was just skin, and limbs were just limbs, but the sight of steve’s chest and abdomen perfectly outlined by the golden dim of the light, was making your stomach all knotted up. it felt like the feeling you got when you played with the others; when you laughed, and cuddled, and kissed them—but it was more intense, scary. in the way that you’d hoped he only ever did this with you—and no one else.

“what is it?” he raises a suspicious brow. you don’t answer. instead, you let your feet trudge across the carpeted floor until you stand in front of him, until you’re so close, he can feel the heat of your breath fan his face.

you stand there, studying him, trailing your claws lightly over the places his abs concave and dip. he doesn’t know what you’re doing at first, just gazes down to where you stand before him, a look of perplexity etched into the crinkles between his brows.

your hand wanders lower, and the boy releases a deep exhale through his nose. you can hear the pace of his heart quicken as you run your fingers through the trail of hair that starts at his navel and disappears under his briefs. experimentally, you ghost your hand over the bulge in his underwear, looking up to him with inquisitive eyes before placing a firm palm on his front.

he swallows thickly this time, holds the spit in the cavity of his throat, and it burns as it trickles down. you had not the slightest clue what you did to him—the effect you had on people. he wonders if you think this is a game, if the things you do when you’re alone are fully of your own volition—if you actually feel the way he does. and you have to, right? a part of him wants to believe it, that your heart beats for him the way his does for you.

“stevie…” his heart squeezes, and his eyes soften. god, you were the very incarnation of calamity, the thing that started wars and killed many a men.

“yeah?” his voice is breathy, wanting. his eyes flicker across the expanse of your face, stopping briefly to glance down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

letting your impatience guide you, you pull him down by the shoulders and kiss him. it’s unrhythmic, inexperienced, and wet but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he melts into it. lets you explore his mouth, and peck at the plush of his lips. lets you taste him with your tongue, and run your teeth over the crevice of his neck, watching with bated breath as you go down, down, down…

“slow down there, kitty,” steve jests, “what’s the rush?”

what’s the rush? doesn’t he know that you waited all day for him? to play with him, touch him—taste him? to see him twitch and writhe as you work him with your hands, tongue, and mouth? to hear him call you a good girl—his pretty girl?

“been waiting for you all day, stevie,” you confess, rubbing your cheek against his crotch. it’s so warm, you can practically feel the heat seeping through the fabric of his briefs, and the groan that emits from his throat makes your ears flutter. you wanna hear it again, and again, and...

“all day, hm?”

“all day, everyday. you’re all i think about,” your hands find the elastic of his briefs, “my favorite chew toy.”

steve scoffs at this, because of fucking course. how could he ever be so stupid to believe that you felt the same way he did? he has half a mind to pull you off of him and let all of this, whatever this was, end here. but the other half wants to continue, wants to see the tears stream from your eyes and coalesce at the base of your chin because he’s too big—too much. he wants to be selfish, wants to hear the sounds you make when you choke and gag around the thickness of his cock, feelings be damned.

“figured as much…hey, we should—you should stop,” his hand reaches to push you away but your tail wraps around his wrist, halting his movements.

“no!” a beat. a transient silence that feels almost deafening, just eyes staring back into eyes, hearts thumping unruly. he’s taken aback by your outburst, doesn’t seem to catch the glass-like droplet ribboning down the fat of your cheek.

your eyes depart from his face and fix themselves on the floor, ears following not too far behind with a sad flop. he only picks up on your dejection when you open your mouth to speak and the words come out in a tremble.

“’s not like that…you…you’re different. this is different,” you confess, “you make my stomach feel fuzzy and my head all dizzy! ’s not like that with the others…” the brunet doesn’t know what to say; actually, he does, he’d been fantasizing about this day for as long as he could remember, but the words leave him the second you tilt your head up jut those pretty little lips. he wants to kiss the pout off of you.

“really?”

“mhm, you’re special t’me, stevie. i wanna show you.” your fingers hook under the elastic of his underwear, and you pull it down teasingly, eyeing him as you take the flesh into your hand. “can i…?”

“fuck, yeah, yeah. ’s all yours.”

with a purr, you lean forward and leave a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue over the spot before taking him into the heat of your mouth. you love this, you think. love seeing the expressions you can pull from him, love seeing how pliant he becomes in the palm of your hand, and the honey sweet praises he mutters only for you. it makes you feel useful, to be able to make him feel good, and take care of him like all the countless times he’s taken care of you.

you’d been waiting to hear these sounds all week, the sharp intakes of breath, the heavy breathing, the drawn groans and expletives. so much so, that you’d find your hands wandering down into your pajama shorts many a nights, thoughts of the boy before you, and how it’d feel for his hands, mouth, fingers to be on you—and how it’d feel for his fingers to stuff your little cunt full.

yeah, you’d spent many nights like that in the dark of mike’s basement, sweaty and fucked out as you brought yourself to climax over, and over, and over. the thought alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you needed to feel some sort of relief. and right now, your hand was the closest thing to provide that.

steve watches with wide eyes as your fingers dip down the waistband of your skirt, and into the confines of your panties. the tips of your digits roll the nub of flesh first, then gather at your core before sheathing themselves inside. a series of moans vacate your throat and vibrate around him, coaxing him to press a firm hand to the back of your head. teasingly, you do it again, humming beguilingly to get him to replicate the reaction.

“shit,” he drawls, placing emphasis on the ’t’, “feels so good, kitty.” your tail wiggles in response to the honest adulation, and so, you take him deeper, using the back of his thighs to force yourself down.

he’s big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is always a plaguing reminder. but you don’t mind it too much, you like when he’s all deep down there, and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat. it always makes you gag, and choke, and sometimes your eyes get too cloudy with tears to the point you can’t see, but it’s worth it. it’s worth it because every time, without fail, he calls you—

“good girl.” that. he calls you that. his ‘good girl’, not ‘kitty’ or ‘good kitty’—but girl. makes you feel all high and mighty, like you’re one of the others, like he sees you as something else other than just a hybrid that he’s been saddled with the burden of caring for. you know he loves you, at least you think he does. he hasn’t right out said it, but judging by his disposition earlier, you couldn’t be too far off.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can’t, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the apex into a sticky mess.

the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he’s been thinking about all day. this was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate, hands still working yourself to orgasm. he can’t help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek. he adores you.

“i lo—“ a pause, hesitance. your ears perk up. “you’re so pretty, y'know that?”

oh. you feel like a dagger dipped in poison just punctured your heart and cut it into smithereens. it hurts, terribly so, but you brush the disappointment off of your face before he can notice and reacquaint yourself with his cock, stroking the length of him languidly, then increasing your pace, going back and forth between the two speeds.

even if he doesn’t say it, those three silly words, the ones you so desperately want him to say—to you and no one else—you think you’ll be fine. all you care about in the moment is making him feel good, making sure that your spot as his girl, his good girl, is solidified and impenetrable. that when another girl goes down on him, they taste you. smell you.

“wanna taste you, mmf. gimme something, stevie.” your eyes flicker up to his, hand still pumping slowly inside your kitten cunt, jaw slack and waiting. fuck, you were so unbelievable. such a sweet little thing, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were one of those high school sluts he brought in and out of here during his ‘king of hawkins’ phase.

“jesus, lemme use ya,” he hisses, hands already coming down to rest on the sides of your head. “can i?” you nod your head, relaxing the column of your throat so that he can slip in and out with ease. the first thrust is experimental, slow. like he’s testing the waters. then, he does it again, pulls all the way out until only the mushroomy head of his cock is sheathed inside.

all you can do is kneel there, breathe in and out through your nose while he builds up a steady rhythm. he decides now that he’s never gonna fuck another girl after you. because how could he? you were his, mouth molded only for him. heart beating only for him.

nothing or nobody could ever compare after you, and he wishes he could boast to the world about how good you are for him, and how much he loves you, but he could never do that, not without consequences. he wants to keep you all to himself, away from evil, and anyone who’d ever inflict harm onto you.

a string of profanities leave his lips. he’s close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage and pet his balls.

yeah, he was gonna cum, could practically feel the white hot liquid traveling up from his balls and to his shaft. he can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he’s sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

you push off of him so that you can swallow it down properly. it’s thick, and much warmer than what you can remember from last time, but swallow it. and when you do, a proud, cheshire grin creeps onto your face. before you stand up, you kiss the inside of his thigh, then bite down onto it, leaving a mark. a reminder.

“i love you.” steve’s mouth moves on its own accord. and at first, he’s not even sure if he said it, but then he sees your little ears flutter, signaling that you did, in fact, hear his untimely confession of love. panic starts to set in, but then you rise from your knees and pounce on him, the two of you stumbling back into his unmade bed.

“say it again, stevie,” the pupils of your eyes widen into saucers, tail swaying side to side as you hold your breath in pure, unfettered anticipation.

“i love you, kitty. and not in that way.” he starts, choosing his words carefully, “…in the way that nance and jonathan love each other, and hopper and joyce. understand?”

your lips part to speak, to reciprocate his feelings, but your excitement is so uncontrollable that you end up biting down into his shoulder. the boy soothes the affliction and mouths an ow before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“not sure what to make of that, is it something good?” steve smirks coyly.

“yeah, ’s good,” your head finds solace in the barrow of his neck. “i…i love you, too. always have. meant it when i said you’re special to me, stevie.”

for a brief second, time seems to stand still, and the only way steve knows how to respond is with a kiss. a slow, passionate, sweet kiss that he pours the pining, desperation and patience of two years into, just hoping that you receive the message.

and you do. loud and clear. you rub the skin of your neck against his, and you do it until every last pore on body is touched by your scent. until you can’t smell him from you, and you from him.

“what’re you doing,” he chuckles, encasing you into a bear hug.

“’s nothing, don’t worry about it!” you lie, but he knows. you left your mark. he was yours, and you were his.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut #dark.content

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userpedros · 1 year

Text

those three little words || joel miller

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

This story takes place in Jackson after the events of Salt Lake

Summary: It'd been a while since you, Joel and Ellie had gotten settled in Jackson. But those three words that were still unspoken were left to linger in the air.

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: age gap - Joel is in his 50's, reader in her late 20's (because apparently, that's all I know how to write), slightly angsty, slighty sweet. it's like a fun lil sour patch kid but instead of sour, you get some angst. implied sexy time but nothing is mentioned.

A/N: This has not been beta read, I did go back over it once to proofread but that's it. Anyway, Soft!Joel is my favorite and you can all pry him out of my cold, dead hands! That's it!

"Ellie, get back here! Damnit!" Joel huffed as he chased the teen through the wild backyard. The smell of summer was thick and the cicadas were screaming with all the might their tiny little insect bodies had. The loud noise brought back some nostalgia for you. Nostalgia and longing for times before the cordyceps took over.

But today, with the beautiful weather, it felt like old times before the world had gone to shit. The family you'd gained along the way, the older man and the teen running around the yard seemed to call to better times for you. It felt better, things felt right. Most of all, you'd begun to feel at home, a feeling foreign to you for so many years. Now you had a home. You had a home in Jackson, and you had a home in Joel and Ellie. You were finally starting to feel at ease.

You smiled as you watched Joel and Ellie play with the worn soccer ball in the backyard. He'd never admit it, just like he’d never admit a lot of things, even though Joel was in his fifties, that man could still kick a soccer ball around like no one's business. Most importantly, he was totally letting Ellie win. Joel the soccer dad back at it again, everything was as it should be.

You sighed as you turned around, a smile still plastered to your face as you watched from the porch, taking a seat in the old rusted yellow patio chair. You whopped and hollered for Ellie as she tried her hardest to beat Joel, her brown hair falling out of her bun, trying to run circles around the man.

The afternoon dragged on as the two continued in the yard for several hours. Finally, as they both started to slow down, they began to head toward the house. Joel tugged Ellie under his arms as he ruffled her hair, earning a sigh and groan from her as she tried to slip out from under his grasp. He let her go as he took in the sight of you, watching them from the porch. Your face held nothing but the brightest smile, something that came quickly to you when you saw him.

You began to space out into thought as Joel and Ellie took seats across from you on the porch. They began to talk about the patrols she’d been warming up to, Tommy taking her far away from infected but letting her have a handle on his rifle with a scope. Joel smiled along with her as they talked about how good of a shot she was, better than many kids in Jackson at her age.

You watched as Joel watched you most of the time, taking time to pay attention to Ellie but mostly keeping his brown eyes trained on you. Joel was a protective man, something that just didn’t go away, even after the safety you three had now. The last twenty years had provided him with enough material for nightmares for the rest of his life. He was different now though. He was a man who changed. He was not the same Joel that lived in those shitty apartments FEDRA handed out. He wasn’t the same man taking those shitty jobs for rations that were more like ghosts, disappearing just as fast as they came.

A weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders as soon as you three settled in Jackson. He held your hand now in public and called you pet names in public. He did more for you than he’d ever done for Tess. Which of course, left some sadness that panged deep in your stomach when you thought of her and how things ended up; but hey, you couldn’t control how things ended up.

You and Joel had become inseparable, creating the little family you three knew you needed. You came back to Earth from your little space out, looking back at Joel, turning away from the smiling teen's face as she told one of her famous puns.

You both laughed in sync, looking over to Ellie as she stood up with the final line of her pun.

“There’s more where that came from, folks!” Her smile beamed even more prominent when she heard someone call for her from the front of the house. “Alright, guess that’s my cue to go. I’ll see you guys later!” Ellie stood up and waved as she walked into the house. You both watched as she disappeared from your lines of sight. You could hear her entering the kitchen to grab a snack before heading out to hang out with whoever was at the front door. You sighed and shook your head as you stood up.

“Maybe we should go get cleaned up, hmm?” Joel said as he stood up, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You grabbed his hand as you both made your way inside, Joel holding the door open like a complete gentleman. That was nothing new though, he was always like that with you. You two together was something new since you came to Jackson but it was something you two had both welcomed as soon as it happened.

“Hmmm… what should we do now that El’s gone?” You peered up at Joel as you both stopped in the entry way of the kitchen.

He grabbed both of your hands and intertwined them with his as he pulled you in closer. He released one hand as he held the back of your head, placing a small kiss on your crown.

“’M actually supposed to be meetin’ with Tommy ‘bout some new routes for Patrols. Sorry darlin’.” He pulled back as he looked down at you.

“You have some time before you head out?” You wiggled your eyebrows as you looked up at him, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes that you could muster.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“I was thinking I could help you clean up a ‘lil before you left. Just a thought.” You giggled as his brown eyes went wide.

“Oh, I think that’s a great idea, could use all the help I can get. ‘Specially with one spot, ‘s real tricky to get just right by myself.” He winked as he whisked you up in a flash and carried you up the stairs. The mixture of your combined laughter filled the air as you two settled in for a shower, making sure to lock the bathroom door as the cleaning session began.

It was later at night when Ellie burst through the door, a smile heavy on her lips as she took you in. You were sitting in your reading chair in the corner of the living room, a small reading light clipped to your book as a blanket covered your lap.

You were so deep into whatever it was that you were reading you hadn’t even noticed the teen come through the door.

“Where’s Joel?” When she spoke out loud it startled you, causing you to drop your book on the floor and place a hand on your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

“Holy shit Ellie! Warning!” You looked up at her as you picked your book off of the floor and placed it on the chair you were sitting in as you stood up. “He’s out with Tommy, something about new routes.” You shrugged as you made your way over to her.

She took in the sight of what you were wearing. One of Joel’s button-downs and a pair of leggings. “Joel’s gonna lose his mind if he sees you’re in his clothes again.” She looked at you and down before she headed into the kitchen.

“Water?” She looked back at you as you grabbed the water and glass for her. It was something you didn’t mind doing, acting as her surrogate mother. You adored her, and the trek across the country you two had made with her only solidified how much you cared about her, even though you were in your later 20’s you still cared for her the way a mother should. After all, she needed that and you needed someone to care for just as much.

“Joel will get over it. Here’s your water, sweet girl.” You smiled at her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re right he will. He really cares about you, you know? Not like how he cares about me, but somethin’ really different.” She gulps down the water as she starts to head towards the cabinets to begin to raid them for a snack, even though the only things in there were expired things Joel had brought home for her on supply runs.

“I know, I care about him too.” You smiled at her as you stepped back into the living room. You grabbed your blanket from the chair and sat on the couch, waiting for Ellie to join you.

She made her way over to you, sinking into the old fabric, and settling into your side. There you two sat for a few moments, just taking in the silence and serenity of being safe while cuddling in the blanket together. She broke the silence by completely catching you off guard when she spoke.

“I know he loves you. He loves us both, he just won’t say it.” You didn’t bother to look down at her as you looked across the room and stared at the old painting that hung on the wall. You really studied the boat scene as you thought about what she’d just said.

You’d told Joel you loved him one night when you two had finally started to get settled in Jackson. He’d acted as if he hadn’t heard you, shutting the bathroom door, and ending the conversation between you two. You never brought it up again. You knew he cared about you, you wanted him to care about you the way you cared about him, but you knew after all that he’d seen and the incredibly high walls he’d built, it might take an incredibly long time before he ever felt feelings like that again.

“I know he loves you, Els. Anyone can see the way he cares about you.” You sighed as you squeezed her into your side.

She dropped the subject, knowing it wasn’t going to get anywhere. That was always the one thing that stayed quiet and closeted between you three. Those three little words. Joel and Ellie were so caged up they’d probably never say them. She sighed as she rested her head on your shoulder. “I’m happy you two got stuck with me as cargo. Feels nice, like I finally have a family.”

You kissed her forehead as you felt tears well in your eyes. “We are a family, sweet girl. You’ll always have us.”

You felt her breathe out as you two sat there longer in silence before the world went dark and you two were passed out on the couch, cuddled up in the blanket.

It was a lot later when you woke up to the sound of the front door closing. Ellie was still fast asleep against you when you turned your head up to look at whoever had walked in the door. You squeezed her into you tighter a surge of panic going through you. You took a deep breath when you saw that it was just Joel.

You realize then that you must’ve fallen asleep. You wonder what time is it as he walks over to where you two were seated on the couch. He spoke in a low tone, careful not to take Ellie.

“Should we just leave her on the couch? Don’t really wanna wake her up, she looks so peaceful.” He smiled down at her as you carefully got up, leaving the blanket wrapped around her form. You reached behind her and put a pillow under her head carefully, trying your hardest to keep her asleep. You nodded as you motioned toward the stairs. Joel followed behind you.

You could feel his eyes burning into you as you walked up the stairs as quietly as you could. You knew he was going to say something about you wearing one of his shirts again, but you didn’t care. He normally didn’t either, he usually just wanted to take it off as soon as he saw it on you. Things had been a little different ever since you said those three little words and he’d ignored you. Sure they normally felt alright during the day or whenever you two were intimate but at night when everything was still and quiet, things always felt different and weird. It felt like uncertainty hung in the air. Uncertainty of where things might end up or where you would end up if you brought it back up.

Joel shut the door quietly behind you as you walked to your side of the bed, crawling in without bothering to change. You were exhausted and you just wanted to sleep.

Joel had other plans though as he stood against the door, crossing his arms, his eyes continuing to burn into you just as they had on the stairs.

“You comin’ to bed, Joel?” You fluffed the pillows up behind you, sitting up as you waited for him to fall into bed next to you.

“You’re wearin’ my shirt again.” He stated as he stood against the door, he almost looked rooted there, as if he’d taken up station there for the night. His back was rigid as he watched your every move, his arms still crossed, his biceps bulging underneath the tan jacket he always wore.

“Sorry, just wanted to feel close to you, that’s all.” You sighed as your eyebrows rose as you continued to hold his gaze. “I can take it off if ya want.”

“No, it’s fine where it is, just makin’ an observation. Looks real good on you anyways.” He huffed out as he walked over to the chair that sat next to the window.

You watched as he shed his jacket. You closed your eyes to give him privacy as he changed into a pair of sweatpants, sans shirt. You sighed as you felt him crawl into bed next to you. You suddenly couldn’t swallow the words that seemed to bubble up in your throat. You felt constricted as the words that Ellie had spoken to you earlier came to mind. The words and thoughts were out of your mouth faster than you could register, making you wish you were flexible enough to shove your foot in your mouth.

“I think we need to talk Joel.” You cringed as you let the words fly out of your mouth. They hung in the air for a few seconds, waiting for a response

You waited for a response but none came, the bed suddenly groaning as he stood up, walking to the end of the bed. He turned around and stared down at you, waiting for you to say something. You took in his form, trying to keep your eyes on his face instead of his arms and chest. This was a serious conversation and you weren’t going to let your hormones take over.

“Well go on, what do we need to talk about?” His arms were crossed once again and he looked irritated. You were still half wishing you hadn’t spoken and taken the path you usually traveled, not talking to Joel about your feelings.

“Remember about a week after we finally got settled in Jackson, it was late and we were goin’ to bed-,” He cut you off, holding his hand up.

“I think I know where this is goin’.” He ran his hands down his face as he took in a deep sigh.

You watched as his chest heaved and the words came flying out of your mouth.

“I told you I loved you Joel and you didn’t say a word. You didn’t even look at me, you just got up and went to the bathroom. You waited in there ‘till I fell asleep.” The words were out now, nothing could shove them back in your mouth. You wanted to crawl into a hole, become an armadillo so he couldn’t see the red staining your cheeks. The embarrassment that you had to be the one to bring it up and you just didn’t wait for him to eventually say it, even though you both knew that was never going to happen.

“Why didn’t you say anything that night Joel?” You pulled the blanket up to your chest as you took a deep breath and continued. “You just let me say it that night. You just let me say it and you just walked away. Do you know how bad that hurt?”

He didn’t say anything as he turned out and looked out the window. He walked closer to it, resting his hands on the sill, and placing his forehead against the cool glass.

“I don’t have a good answer for that one, darlin.’”

You could feel the air thickening as tears welled up in your eyes. “What are you so scared of, Joel? Why can’t you just tell me how you feel? I’m sick of actin’ like everything is great but every night when we go to bed it’s as still and quiet as can be.”

“I can’t tell you because I can’t give you what you want sweetheart. I’m old. I feel myself gettin’ older every day. I can’t be what you need for long.” You could hear his voice getting deeper and huskier.

You stood up and made your way over to where he was placed in front of the window. You placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing as you spoke.

“I have everything I could ever want. I have you and I have Ellie. No matter what happens tomorrow, I am happy.” You sighed as you moved your hand and placed your head on his shoulder. “I love you, Joel. Nothing is going to change that. I’ll love you ‘till the day something happens to one of us and I’ll love you after that.”

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. You both continued to stare out the window, taking in the view of the Wyoming mountains in the distance.

“It’s so beautiful here, Joel. I never thought I’d end up somewhere like this. I never thought I could be happy like this again.” His head lifted as he looked over at you, watching you as you watched the mountains in the distance.

“I know what you mean. Never thought I’d end up here either. Never thought I’d have the chance to be happy again like this.” He turned, his southern accent thick and dripping with sadness for the past. He looked down at you, your head falling off of his shoulder to crane back to look into his eyes.

“I think you’ve known for a while that I care about you, darlin’. You know that I love you. It just seems like somethin’ so stupid to admit in a world like this. I haven’t said those words in 20 years.”

You nodded as you looked back out to the view, understanding what he meant by that. He probably hadn’t said that to anyone since he’d last said that to his daughter, Sarah. You knew that was probably as much as you were going to get out of him. You were just happy he finally said it and that he’d opened up a little bit. Sarah was such a sore topic, for good reason. A small smile broke out across your face as you stayed peering out at the mountains.

You two stood there for a while, just like that. You looked out at the view and he looked out at you. The silence finally broke when Joel coughed a bit, putting a free hand on your back. You turned and looked at him letting out a sigh as you started to head toward the queen-sized bed you both shared.

“Ready for bed, Miller?” You smiled up at him as you both went your separate ways to your sides of the bed.

“Ready for bed, sweet girl.” He smiled a weak smile at you as you both climbed into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your head leaning down to rest on his chest. Sleep started to overcome you fast as he pulled the duvet up onto your body.

The last thing you heard before you were engulfed in the sweetest and deepest sleep you’d had in a while was an omission from Joel. The sweetest words you’d think to ever roll off his lips.

“I love you, darlin’. Nothing is ever gonna change that.” With that, he kissed your forehead and you were off to sleep. Ready to take on whatever came the next day because you knew no matter what you’d have Joel and you’d have that sweet girl sleeping downstairs on the couch. Everything was falling into place.

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months

Text

The One to Sacrifice, Part 3

Summary: being here is getting to you.

Pairings: Raleigh Becket X Reader, Johnny Storm X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, mentions of secrets, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.3K

Series Masterlist

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

The moment your father had told you the pond had been scraped you were ready to get back on the ice, but you had responsibilities now, and they involved making sure your niece was taken care of. Everyone else’s lives got to go on living like they always did, but yours changed the moment that Mike had passed away. You became her sole caretaker. Her confidant. Her shoulder to cry on. Her everything.

“So I get to play hockey here?” She looks up at you sleepily. So far Tanzy had enjoyed being here. You had your doubts. Hopefully it would make taking care of yourself easier. As far as your personal life went, it was much more difficult. Small towns had the tendency to do that.

“Yes, darling, now go to sleep,” you whisper, giving a kiss to her forehead.

“Did my dad love hockey?”

“Your dad and uncle Frank loved hockey. Him, Frank, Johnny, and…”

“That man that brought us home?” She peeks up through her lashes at you with the most mischievous grin, and you just nod. “Did you ever kiss him?”

“Go to sleep,” your voice is a bit more animated, but it doesn’t raise. Playfully covering her eyes she starts giggling uncontrollably. “Tanzy!”

“What? He’s cute. You should kiss him,” you roll your eyes, and settle back on her bed. You need to go out on the ice, so whatever it took for her to settle down, you’d do. “He’s nice, too. He drove us home.”

“Uh huh,” you give a fake yawn that you know she doesn't believe, but you can’t help it. It was late, and you were emotionally exhausted, and only one thing helped. You can already feel the tingle of the chill on your cheeks.

“Did you love him?” Tanzy breaks your daydreaming of just moving on the ice. Giving you the softest and knowing smile as she looks up at you.

“Young love,” you agree. You loved Raleigh in your way, although you never loved him the way he loved you. You didn’t even understand what love was. And then some stupid boy with blue eyes that had the most beautiful bit green in them stole your heart, and you didn’t have the balls to break up with Raleigh.

“You should try again,” she lets out a little yawn, flipping over onto her side. “I don’t want you to be alone like daddy was,” she yawns again, waving her hand at you, “I’m good, go skate.”

This child. She knew that you needed to skate, “Love you, Tanz.”

“Love you, too,” she could very much be faking her sleepiness. She’s done it before. But she wasn’t a baby anymore. She was growing.

With a sigh, you run into the mud room, and grab your things. Putting your skates on sitting on the bench by the pond. Remembering a simpler time and skating with your brothers. Inhaling the frosty air with a smile. Skating on the pond brought back so many memories. A less complicated life. Joy. Laughter. Love.

Making a few rounds on the ice, you try to not think, just exist. Focus on your feet and legs as you launch into the air. Not think about everything that happened. Too much had happened. And even more was bubbling up to the surface, and there was more you hoped never would.

Spinning around, you let the world melt away. Let everything blur out in front of you, but then you feel Johnny’s hands on your body. Blurring into puppy love with Raleigh. Someone you didn’t have to hide. Mike would have killed you. He threatened to kill Johnny when he found out.

You come to a stop in the middle of the ice. Your chest heaving with frustration more than exertion. You really knew how to fuck up things. It’s why you prefer to push people away. Coming back home was smothering you. The only one you couldn’t run away from was Tanzy; because she needs you. Who else would take care of her?

On the one hand was this toxic love based on passion and your bodies. A fire that burned too brightly, leaving you with nothing left but ashes. On the other hand was someone you could make a life with. A life here in a small town in Maine. Things weren’t complicated with Raleigh until…Johnny.

You aren’t even sure you loved Johnny, you just wanted him. Wanted everything he had to offer, and he had big dreams and stars in his eyes that were the same as yours. But he made it. He didn’t sacrifice anything. Kept living his life, and pretending like Tanzy didn’t exist. Mike had counted on him, and he failed. Again.

You take off quickly just wanting to get in the air, and get your mind off — them. You didn’t want either of them quite frankly, and yet they were still both here. What were the odds that Johnny was being forced to be a coach to a girls’ hockey team? And you sigh as your body spins around because there’s a part of you that is lying. You did want something. Honesty, possibly.

You have to think of anything but them. Think about what would have happened if you decided to have a partner. The only one you had ever skated with was Raleigh. You’d giggle as he’d lift you up in the air, and twirl you around. You should have kept things simple, despite his push to turn romantic. No, it was his ability to make you laugh and feel comfortable. Raleigh should have had all your firsts.

You try to imagine a life where things didn’t get fucked up. Where Raleigh came with you to Minnesota. Mike could have still been alive. Tanzy would have had her father, and you would have had your big brother.

You imagine him as your partner. Practically could feel his hands back in yours as you skate around the pond. Life could have been different. Maybe you wouldn’t be thinking about these constant what if’s in your head.

“You…”

“Ahh,” you fall down on the ice, and glare up at Raleigh who stops so abruptly he falls over as well. “What are you doing?”

He sits up, placing both arms on his knees as he gives you that quintessential Raleigh Becket smile, “I came to apologize,” he tilts his head to the side as he looks at you. “I spent all this time feeling like I didn’t get any closure, and…dammit, Pix, I should have been there for you.”

”What?” Your head turns to look at him quickly. Confusion doesn’t even explain what you’re feeling. Or the secrets you were hiding. How did they fit in with Raleigh?

“When Mike died. I shouldn’t have offered my help, I should have just been there. You quit your dream to raise a child that wasn’t your own.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Would you stop,” you look at him confused. What exactly did he mean with that? “You don’t have to be a martyr. You don’t have to do this all alone. You shouldn’t have done it alone. Tanzy…you’ve done a good job on her. You should have had a support system.”

A silence looms between the two of you. Never even getting off the ice. You look up at the stars, and whisper out a thanks to him. Starting to lean into his body a bit before your head lays over on his shoulder. The best thing about Raleigh is the comfort.

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“Is that an invitation?” He can feel the smile that creeps up on your mouth, and you feel the chuckle building up in his chest that he doesn’t want to release. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Is this a Storm thing?” You groan, starting to lift off his shoulder, but he pulls you back down. “Did he mean anything to you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did I?”

You’re unsure how to answer. Because he did mean a lot to you. Johnny is complicated for various reasons. And you have told yourself he meant nothing to you for a long time, but you fear it is to protect yourself the most. Because at the end of the day, you felt like a conquest to Johnny. An easy lay. A virgin.

Raleigh whispers your name, lifting you up to look at him, “Did I mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” you answer with the utmost sincerity. He smiles with glassy eyes, and you hate yourself for the pain you caused him. Not just the lack of closure but the fact he found out about his girlfriend cheating on him. “I loved you. You were my best friend.”

“Why did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders, removing your gaze from his heavy stare. It is too intense, and you can’t fully handle the way he is looking at you. Clinging to any hope you can offer him. “Don’t look away.”

“I don’t know. I told you…it was…”

“You,” he takes a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully. It was years ago, and the pain is still there. Wedged deep inside of him because he didn’t doubt the way he felt. He was completely in love with you then, and nothing had changed. “Because of a school girl crush. He was your first.”

“He was my only,” that didn’t offer much comfort, but you see his face relax a bit. His hands cup your cheeks, leaning his forehead into yours. “Raleigh, I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you didn’t deserve him, his forgiveness, or any of his kindness. But you melt into it. It was the first time in so long you have felt comforted. No one ever bothered to check on you, and even if they did, Raleigh just knew. The the need to run away from everything seems to have stopped. You didn’t want to run anymore. You are tired. “Can we start over?”

“I don’t know what that means, Raleigh,” his eyes flick down to your lips, and you know without him saying anything. “Clarify.”

“Start from the beginning. Forget anything happened.”

“You’re suggesting we’re more than friends?”

“I’m suggesting I want you in my life. I’ve missed you, and my feelings haven’t changed,” if you made friends with girls, maybe they would have told you that he was a man that had never moved on, and that should be a red flag. But you didn’t move on either. You had no desire to make a choice. And at the time there was only one choice you could make. So you ran. You pushed everything into your career, and didn’t let any of those emotions bubble up to the surface. No one knew, and you repressed everything. You didn’t want them to know. You didn’t want to know.

“At your pace.”

“Remind me?” Your mouth tips up in a smile, hoping he didn’t forget what it meant. With a smile that matches your own, his eyes flutter close, and he presses his lips against yours. No one moves, and the kiss is warm and lingering. You still aren’t sure if you ever loved him the way he loved you. Or the way he deserved, but you hope you find it.

You settle into his arms, snuggling closer, and feeling at least comfort. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t love, but it was…something.

“Tanzy, why are you still awake?” Tanzy looks back at her uncle, shushing him before her eyes go back to the ice. “Oh…they didn’t waste time,” he rolls his eyes as he sits down beside his niece. Giving you and his best friend an eye roll. The two of you embrace in a hug before you stand up, and start skating around the ice.

Laughter fills the winter air with a lightness that he hasn’t seen in his friend in a long time. The two of you fall in sync, partnering up, and going with the flow. He sighs as Tanzy flips around in her bed. “They kissed.”

“It wasn’t their first time.”

“But it was like a real kiss,” Frank chuckles, reaching over to pull the covers over both him and Tanzy. “She never kissed anyone back home. I never saw a boy.”

“Don’t make sense out of your aunt.”

“She deserves to have fun. She’s a good aunt. She worked a lot. I never saw her on the ice. And now we’re here, and she’s laughing, and — they were in love, huh?” Frank shrugs his shoulders, retching while Tanzy watches her uncle curiously. “What?”

“Thinking about Raleigh and my sister is weird. He’s a good guy, but it’s…gross. But I know he’s never looked at a woman like he does Pixie.”

“Be happy for her. She didn’t smile a lot. She’s always thinking.”

“About what?” Tanzy yawns, and starts to snuggle into his body, just like she used to with her dad. She didn’t ever want to forget him. But most of what she remembered was through someone else’s memory. “Your dad?”

“No. She has secrets, Frank. Secrets that make her sad.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m just a kid. Her and dad whispered a lot. She cried a lot, and then she had to take care of me,” she yawns again, and her words get softer. Quieter. “Let her be happy.”

“Go to sleep, and I’ll try,” he gives another quick glance outside, but looks away quickly. You weren’t so much skating as holding onto each other. That weird thing the two of you did when you just touched foreheads together and looked at one another.

Secrets. You had secrets that made you sad. You did leave, and not tell Raleigh goodbye. Wouldn’t return his calls. You didn’t like the idea of “Johnny,” Frank groans. Johnny did something. He always did.

“You and the mechanic,” Tanzy starts to tease you, but you turn around to look at her shaking your head. She was supposed to be getting her gear ready for hockey practice. “Uh huh, I saw you.”

“Skating together is nothing to get too excited about,” after a bit of sleep, you realize that even just a slight peck of a kiss was a horrible idea. Raleigh clearly is still in the zone of everything is perfect, and he can be perfect just for you. It isn’t that you doubt that. But you have only just arrived and there are still so many things swirling in your head, and you are drowning in thoughts. You need to skate, and every time you did there was a man.

“Yeah, but you didn’t just skate. I saw you,” she gives you the sweet mischievous grin that makes you think of Mike, and you can’t even be mad at her. She had this attitude just like Mike and Johnny, always into something, and always ready for a good time.

“I remember now why I hated your dad’s room right there.”

“Why because he watched you kiss that man, too?” Wrapping a hand around her stomach she lets a wave of giggles rush over her. Head leaning back, and you try — try not to laugh with her, but you can’t. She already seems happier here than she did. Being around family is good for her, and a bit suffocating for you.

“Raleigh did watch me skate a lot.”

“Did Johnny?”

“Now what kind of question is that?” Tanzy shrugs her shoulders as she lifts up a duffle bag. “Why would you ask about Johnny?”

“Why are you getting so defensive about Johnny? It was first the mechanic, and now him. Did you kiss Johnny, too? Like the Johnny Storm, did you kiss him?” You stepped right into that. You couldn’t blame her for being curious, but your relationship with Johnny was for nobody’s ears. You buried that and the memories a long time ago.

“Go on, get into the car. Gimma is waiting for us,” you car still hasn't been fixed. You didn’t doubt that Raleigh could, but he of course had other cars ahead of you. With a deep sigh, you watch Tanzy jump into the car with your mom, and you look around the kitchen. Nothing had changed. It brought you a bit of comfort, and still there was that tad of unease that always lingered in places where memories of your brother were the strongest.

Nothing is ever easy here because some things just never change, despite how much is always changing. Just take a deep breath, and go.

Trudging out to your mom’s car makes you feel like a child again, especially going to the rink. You fasten your seatbelt, and look in the rear view mirror, and the sly smile on Tanzy’s face lets you know she’s not letting this go.

“You should invite Raleigh for dinner.”

“Tanzy!”

“He was most likely going to come anyway. I have to make sure all my boys are fed. Him and Frank mosey on in. It would be nice for…” Tanzy starts laughing uncontrollably as your mom rattles on.

“It would be nice if you guys wouldn’t make a big deal about it. Raleigh and I…”

“Yes, yes,” your mom looks at you with an exasperated look. It isn’t the first time that she’s had this conversation with you. “You and Raleigh have always skated together. And skating together always leads to him crawling into your bedroom and watching movies until you pass out, and I tell him to please use the front door instead.”

You glance towards her looking ashamed. You had no idea she actually knew about that. “I allowed him to stay because he made my ice princess happy. I could hear you guys laughing, and you almost never stopped talking, so I didn’t think anything was going on. And then when you actually were dating — honey, nothing ever happened?”

“Tanzy is in the car.”

“I know about kissing!”

“What I mean is you shouldn’t have to stay in your head. Raleigh gave you something more to talk about than skating. He opened up your cold heart. I heard you laugh, and weren’t repeating your routine obnoxiously over and over again. Raleigh made you human, and I hate to think that someone who was your best friend,” starting to interrupt, she covers your mouth with her hand, “I know he and Frank are close, but those two didn’t have what you two had.”

“It would be really weird if they did. I’m glad to know that everyone thinks I’m…”

“Icy,” you shoot a playful glance back at Tanzy, but try to laugh. You weren’t the most personable human in the world, and you never had been. But there is a part of what your mom is saying is right. You did feel differently around Raleigh. He was able to bring out the best of you.

“Well there he is,” your mom smiles and gives Johnny a wave as she pulls into the rink. No one was here. “Tell Johnny I said hey, and he should come by for dinner tonight, and…”

“No!” She looks taken aback as you shout at her. “Just — not yet. We don’t even know how he’s going to be with his goddaughter,” you take a deep breath, and hold your head up high as you get out of the car. Giving a wave to your mom as you give Johnny a terse nod. He’s so full of himself, his smile just gets larger.

He gives your mom a friendly wave, and his hand presses on Tanzy’s back, “Why don’t you go ahead and dress out, there’s some things I’d like to discuss with your aunt.”

“Are you wanting to kiss her, too? Aunt Pixie, you’ve got all the boys,” she gives a little giggle as she runs into the rink, and you follow right behind her.

“Let me guess, you were kissing that Neanderthal Raleigh?” You don’t answer, just walk right into the rink, and have a deep need to skate on its smooth surface. “Wow, okay. So, you won’t give me the time of day even though I know what you taste like, but you’ll let that man kiss you in front of Tanzy.”

Spinning around you glare at him, “That got your attention, ice princess. What does Raleigh have that I don’t? I got the bigger bank account.”

“And you got the bigger head.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you,” you shove his shoulder. This is what always irritated you about him; his ease at getting under your skin. “You didn’t even give me the time of day, but you let that man kiss you?”

“Why do you care? It’s not like you couldn’t have any girl that you wanted. And you have. Raleigh is…”

“Hung up on you. We both know it. Did you tell him about us? About how I couldn’t keep my hands off you, and you were just as needy for me?”

“I thought you needed to talk to me about something. Where is everyone?” You did not need to go down this road again. You just wanted for Tanzy to practice, and you to eventually go home, and away from him. He is your kryptonite.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers before he starts walking towards the ice. “Has Tanzy ever played?” You shake your head no, sitting down on a bench, and he joins you. Too close. Just to prove you don’t like the closeness, you scoot away. “Her dad was Mike Weiss, and you didn’t put her in hockey?”

“I was struggling to feed us both, and you wanted me to put her in an expensive sport that I couldn’t afford?”

“You could have told me,” see this is the reason you easily fall for Johnny. There’s something in the way he looks at you, actually concerned. “That’s why you’re back, money?”

“Kids are expensive, even more so when you’re on their own. Her godfather didn’t reach out, so I just made do. And now I’m back in. Back here wallowing in the past, and…”

“You always were so melodramatic. It’s not that serious. You’re here getting help and support. Who fucking cares?” You cared. Your pride cared, and he called you melodramatic. “Keep the drama for the ice. It’s what I do, baby. You don’t have to have all that shit swirling in your head while you try to make sense out of everything. We had fun, right? So you cheated on some chump that was obsessed with you. How come you never had sex with him? Am I the only one? You look better when you keep your issues on the ice, and let me do the thinking for you.”

“That doesn’t fix everything.”

“Does constantly worrying about it?” You still. If there was anything you always admired about Johnny was his ability to not care. “Pix, can I be honest with you?”

“You always are. Even if I don’t want you to.”

“You’re wound too tight. You always have been. That’s why we…well, you wanted me to teach you. I did, and for a few months you relaxed. You skated better than you ever had before, and then you just — poof. I wasn’t heartbroken, but that man you are kissing was. So if you want me to relax you, get rid of him. Or use him to relax you. Either way, get laid,” you stutter a moment, as you hear the locker room door slam shut.

“Unless you want to tell me what really happened. Because believe me when I say this, Pix, something happened. Between you and me, and you’re hiding from it. You don’t have to tell me, but if it’s something that keeps you this stressed, and made my best friend yell and cuss at me, well…that’s your call since Mike can’t explain shit.”

You start to say something. Anything. But Johnny stands up, and gives a nod to Tanzy. “I know I’m an asshole. But while I’m here, I could be your asshole. And I’d like to get to know the squirt. And offer coaching. One on one. Pix, I’m not the evil monster you want me to be. I’m just a prick,” he reaches down to pick up his skates, leaving you wondering what exactly was going on inside your head, and if you made a bigger deal than things. Just like you always did.

Take out the men. And think about just you. You have to take responsibility for your actions. No one can but you. You may be sticking your foot in your mouth, but Johnny deserved to know Tanzy. “You should come by for supper sometime. You and Tanzy can skate on the pond.”

“I haven’t skated on that pond in years. What do you say, squirt, want me to start giving private lessons?”

“What about practice?” She asks, looking around to see everything is still empty. He set you up, but this will make her so happy.

“Practice doesn’t actually start until tomorrow, but we can get some skating in. Pix? Care to join us?” You shake your head no, wanting more than ever to just see Johnny with her. Watching as he actually laughs at things she says, enjoying her. It’s a shame he had all this time without her, and she with him. It just works.

You feel a slight ping in your heart as you watch them, giving your mom a text that there wasn’t actually practice today and she could pick you up.

I knew. Johnny said he could bring you two home.

Of course he did. Of course she knew. It’s fine. It was okay. Get out of your head. That was years ago. Raleigh would have to get used to Johnny being in your life. For Tanzy. And that’s how you wanted to keep it. For Tanzy.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmaii @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @charmed-asylum @cjand10 @rosemirrors @midnightramyeoncravings @patzammit @valhalla-kristin @kmc1989 @peaceinourtime82 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

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