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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Word Count: 4k

Part 2: READ HERE

The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you.

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction.

Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.

All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.

Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly.

“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”

As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”

To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”

Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”

Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.

Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says.

The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze.

You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit.

And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.

“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement.

You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.

“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”

He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”

You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.

With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge.

You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.

The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore.

The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”

He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?”

Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”

“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.

Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.

The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.

Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.

It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”

Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.

Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.

Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together.

How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?

The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.

You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth.

That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him.

The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth.

And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.

You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.

The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand.

Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his.

Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment.

Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed.

Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.

“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”

It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready. But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own.

By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent.

You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.

“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.

Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both.

Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.

Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”

You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie.

“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”

You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case.

“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.

You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back.

“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”

The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.

Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up.

You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken.

Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.

The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it.

Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed.

This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.

And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.

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lovverletters · 1 year ago

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👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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qdbs-writes · 1 year ago

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How do you think the Cullens would act around a disinterested crush? Maybe they're fated but reader isn't having it lol

(I love your twilight writing btw thank God someone is still doing it 🤤🤤)

ah it has been many moons since I've gotten a twilight request yay!

Cullen Clan Reacting To Their Crush Being Disinterested In Them

Carlisle Cullen

Being alive for just over 400 years tends to give one a good perspective on life and the bigger picture, and Carlisle sure has a pretty good idea of how all things pan out. So you're not interested in him? That's fine, Carlisle can wait for as long as you need to change your mind.

In the meantime, Carlisle will continue to maintain your friendship and continue to show just how hard he's worked to become the kind caring father figure he is. He knows you'll fall for him, eventually.

Esme Cullen

Obviously, she's not going to stop caring about you just because you don't return her feelings. But she might switch up how she shows her affection.

Rather than flirty winks and suspiciously candle-lit wine tastings, she'll back up to more traditionally motherly affections. Making sure you're eating right, baking cookies, etc. And of course, giving you homemade soup when you're sick is still one of her favourite things to do, no need to stop now.

Edward Cullen

Of course, you're not interested, how could anyone love a monster like him? Who did he think he was, thinking he was worthy of your love? Or so his inner monologue goes.

But it's really not that dramatic, it almost never is, Edward just sprung his crush on you suddenly and it caught you off guard. It was largely the excessively long preamble about how he was an irredeemable murderer that put you off first, but of course, he won't realise that until considerably later.

Rosalie Hale

She's a little relieved actually. All her mortal and immortal life, Rosalie has been aggressively pursued by people she wasn't particularly interested in, so the fact that she can crush on someone who isn't really that interested is a wonderful change of pace.

For the first time ever, Rosalie has butterflies in her stomach, she fumbles with her words when she speaks to you, and she feels like a silly, mortal teenage girl again, begging her mother to let her go to the dance just so she can sneak away to catch a glimpse of someone just like you.

Emmett Cullen

You and Emmett had been good friends for a while so when he casually drops a blissful "We should get married" into the conversation, you initially choke on your drink in laughter.

Emmett's a little heartbroken that you'd laugh at something like that, considering that he was being 100% serious. But since you've known him, the both of you have been constantly cracking up jokes, trying to get on each other's nerves, so no wonder you thought this was another one of his pranks. He decides to take this reaction as a blessing, you have no idea he's actually into you, now he knows he has to work out a different way to confess his feelings for you.

Alice Cullen

She's a little confused obviously, having multiple visions of the two of you in a romantic relationship kind of gave her the impression that it might've been going to come true, but your disinterest says something else altogether.

But the worst part is that those damn visions of you and her together keep coming back, taunting her, luring her in deeper to despair with the thoughts of what might be. It's all getting so intense, so she decides to skip town for a bit, see if that changes anything, or at least helps her clear her head.

Jasper Hale

Oh well, so you're not interested in a romantic relationship, so what? Doesn't mean you can't still be friends. Doesn't mean he can't be the charming Southern gentleman he is. Doesn't mean he can't still pull out chairs or open doors for you. Or send anonymous bouquets to your house. Or leave your favourite snacks in your locker when you're having a rough day. Of course not.

It doesn't mean he can't worry about other people who might want to date you. Doesn't mean he can't scare off people who'd be bad for you. I mean, what else are friends for?

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findmeinforks · 10 months ago

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Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words

"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.

"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.

"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.

"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.

"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.

"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.

"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.

"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.

"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.

He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.

"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.

"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.

"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.

"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.

"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.

Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.

"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"

The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.

"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.

Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.

There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.

The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.

But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.

Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.

Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.

Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.

You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.

"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.

She returned your same smile.

"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."

You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.

What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.

Emily gestured to each of them,

"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."

You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.

There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.

You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,

"Better luck next time kid."

Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.

After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.

Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.

You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.

"I am so, so sorry. I-"

"No no it's fine, are you-"

Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"

A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.

Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.

An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.

His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.

Paul couldn't breathe.

He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.

You were beautiful.

Breathtaking.

Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-

No.

No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.

Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?

Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.

He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.

You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.

But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.

Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.

Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.

That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.

Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.

It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.

"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.

That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.

"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."

Paul.

"Leave me alone Sam."

Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.

He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".

That had been when he lost it.

He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.

"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."

Paul scoffed.

"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."

"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.

"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.

"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"

"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."

Sam sighed.

"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."

Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.

You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?

You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.

You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.

Damn, wolves must have good hearing.

"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.

He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.

He couldn't sleep either?

You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.

Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...

STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.

He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.

"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.

"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."

He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.

You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.

"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."

He chuckled.

"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."

"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.

He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.

The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.

"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.

His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.

"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."

You smiled.

"I'd like that."

To be continued......

#paul lahote #sam uley #twilight #bella swan #edward cullen #embry call #imagine #jacob black #new moon #quil ateara #eclipse #seth clearwater #emily young #breaking dawn #fanfiction #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #paul x reader #fiction

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appalachiancowboy99 · 2 months ago

Text

After Dark

Arthur Morgan x CurvyFem!Reader Established relationship, high honor, grumpy Arthur in desperate need of release, 18+, MDNI (Minors DO NOT ENTER)

Arthur comes back to camp later than usual, with nothing but a bad disposition and a desperate need to release his pent-up frustrations.

Warnings: longer read, sexual content (oral, unprotected p in v, rough sex), mentions of violence, mentions of anger, and dabbles in sensual fluff.

Gif by: @sunwingsunset

A/N: Thank you so much to @photo1030 for not only being my sounding board in the never-ending chaos that is my writing process but also for being such a wonderful friend through it all. So grateful for you, don't know what I'd do without ya, C! <3 Thank you so much to @rivetingrosie4 for being an inspiration for my little works and being so supportive of my creative endeavors, not to mention the kind generosity of your friendship! Forever grateful for to have met you! @tortureddpoett I'm so excited to explore this budding friendship with you! Thank you so much for showing so much excitement for my work, IT MAKES ME EXCITED (EEP!). It means an absolute ton to me <3 @mr-inkslinger your friendship has been an absolute delight to explore! Thank you for posting that toe-curling smut that always has me giggling and kicking my feet! So happy to have met ya! And thank each and every single one of you for liking my first drabble and expressing interest in this next one. I'm so sorry it's taken me forever to publish this post, but hopefully, the next ones won't take me as long. I'll forever be grateful for your patience and kindness <3 But now, enough of my babbling, y'all enjoy yourselves with this one- I know I did ;)

Fuck. From the second he opened his eyes, he knew that the day was going to be fucking awful; his neck had a crick in it, his head was pounding from what little sleep he’s received over the last few nights, and now he had to trudge back out into the goddamn muggy heat to work. One disaster after another had piled up; everything that could have gone wrong, went so terribly awry that he wound up farther away from camp than he originally intended and managed to add a solid fifteen-dollar bounty to the mounting collection resting atop his head. Dutch had sent him out on a wild goose chase, following a lead from Micah that, of course, ended up being a complete waste of time. And that meant he was coming back to camp empty-handed, which almost certainly meant he'd be on the receiving end of another one of Dutch's lectures on the endless responsibilities placed upon his shoulders. He dreaded it, wanted to avoid spiraling down another conversation that would end in Dutch questioning his faith in the ever-evolving plan he’s found himself working on these days.

As if he needed any of that horseshit tonight. All he wanted was a moment of peace and quiet, a chance to catch his breath after the disaster of a day he'd just had, but instead, he was headed back to camp with nothing but bruises, a bloody lip, and a bad disposition to show for his efforts. Trees and other bits of scenery whipped by in a blur as Arthur spurred his horse onward, his surroundings melting together into a muddy mess of shapes cast by moonlight. He passed through New Hanover, his furious pace leading him down the familiar roads of Lemoyne, reaching the clearing outside of camp. Lenny and John are the first to spot Arthur approaching the thicket of trees disguising Clemens Point's main entrance. “Hey, who goes there?” Lenny’s voice echoes through the forest, bouncing off the thicket until it reaches Arthur’s ears.

“‘S me.” Arthur grunts out through gritted teeth, clearly not in the mood for any chit-chat. Even underneath the shadow of leaves and limbs, the scowl etched upon his face is easily distinguishable, a clear sign for anyone with any common sense to give him a wide berth for the rest of the night. Lenny and John, both, had a pretty good idea of what might happen when Arthur steps foot into camp and they don't want any part of it. As a result, they give each other a little knowing glance and stay in the treeline, preferring to avoid the impending shitstorm and let Dutch or Hosea deal with it instead. He strides past them in a fit of frustration, dismounting his mare with a jerky movement before she's even come to a complete stop. Kieran spots him and hesitantly approaches. That poor fool. "H-Hey, Mr. Morgan. Would ya like me to unsaddle the 'ol gal here?" Kieran's question was nothing more than an innocent query, but his expression turned the young man into a nervous wreck. If looks could kill, Arthur’s certainly could; his steely eyes are set ablaze with annoyance and irritation as he casts a hateful glance in Kieran's direction. Even Kieran knew better than to talk to Arthur when he was in this state, knowing that it would only lead to suffering at the hands of his unbridled wrath. Kieran’s eyes immediately darted to his feet, desperate to avoid Arthur’s icy gaze as his fingers trembled with the frayed ends of rope in his hands. Quickly as to not start any trouble for himself, Kieran took hold of the mare's reigns and led her away to the field of horses, putting as much distance between himself and Arthur as he could. A slight pang of guilt runs through him when he sees the way that Kieran high-tailed it out of his line of sight. He doesn't want to be harsh to the boy, he's been a useful asset to the gang, but his temper is just too far gone for him to muster up an apology. As fast as the angering thoughts snapping through his mind, Arthur turns on his heels and storms into camp in search of Dutch. His boots furiously hit the grass and reddened Lemoyne dirt as he passes by a few of the wandering eyes from those still awake at this late hour. Charles casts him a wary glance, and so does Sadie, but neither of them cares to look long enough to entertain what's about to happen. He passes by his own wagon and heads straight to Dutch's tent. Dutch is nowhere to be seen, yet the lamp light inside casts its soft golden glow upon the closed canvas flaps of the tent, indicating that he might be inside. Not wasting any more time than he has to, Arthur approaches the tent, not bothering to stop and think until it's too late. His hand raises, readying to peel back the canvas flap, when all of a sudden he hears the sweet amorous sounds of lovemaking echo through the night air. Molly’s sweet voice gasps out between each movement of their squeaking cot, calling out for Dutch as the unmistakable sound of skin slapping skin penetrates through the thin canvas walls, revealing exactly what’s occupying Dutch’s time tonight.

“Oh, Dutch. Don’t stop,” she encourages through strained, unabashed moans of pleasure. Dutch’s deep, husky voice murmurs back something unintelligible, but the increased squeaking of their bed and the filthy little noises coming from Molly are a clear indicator that Arthur should be stepping away to give them some privacy. Embarrassment washes over him, causing a faint rosy flush to heat his face and bloom across his cheeks. For once, he's grateful for the distraction from his current frustration. On most nights, he'd find comfort in your presence, seeking you out to vent his grievances as a distraction from the ever-present aggravation that seemingly follows him around these days. But tonight, he just wants to retreat to his tent, away from everything and everyone, to try to calm down before he says or does something he regrets.

He strides past the dying campfires and tables that are askew from daily camp activities, and his mind tirelessly races from thought to thought, stealing his attention away from his surroundings. If Arthur had even bothered to look, he would have spotted your sleeping form laid out upon his bed the moment he stepped inside. You had been waiting for him all evening. After working yourself to the bone doing laundry, dinner prep, and other camp chores for Ms. Grimshaw all day long, you wandered your way over to Arthur’s tent in search of a quiet place to sit. Part of you wished to find him seated right there on his cot, wanting to simply have a conversation with the man who has stolen your heart, but to your disappointment, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So, you waited for him.. And waited until the very idea of waiting became too tiresome and you unknowingly fell asleep.

Sneaking away from the gang for private talks with him has been one of your favorite things to do since you joined the gang so long ago. Y'all have always had a knack for avoiding the company of others. But somehow in the midst of squirreling yourselves away, both of you have come to find that you'd prefer being alone together. Eventually, this led to many nights where Arthur would seek you out just to speak his mind, allowing you to see the world through his eyes for a short while. You have not only embraced Arthur's thoughts, but in doing so, you have captured his heart all the same. If it weren't for you, he's certain he'd have lost his damn sanity long ago.

Arthur takes that dusty old gambler's hat off his head and runs his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to calm himself down. His eyes glance over the things laid out upon his bedside table before catching a glimpse of your figure awash by the pale moonlight in his periphery. Your hair is sprawled out over the small blanket you've rolled up into a makeshift pillow; curls flowing like a roaring waterfall, laying a mess, and finally free from the bun that was atop your head earlier in the day. His eyes rake over your voluptuous figure, noting every dip and curve from your plump waist and hips to the ample swell of your breast hidden by a layer of clothing. The moment his mind registers that your presence isn't a dream, his eyes soften and his mind no longer races with anger. You are his peace, the only thing in this world that he cherishes above all else.

Sighing softly, he finally discards his hat from his hand and places it onto his nightstand before working off his worn leather jacket and satchel, resting them on the back of the chair nearest his shaving mirror. And while he's on his feet, he takes the time to carefully roll down the canvas walls of his tent, unraveling them with the quiet precision of a mouse, and securing them in a few simple knots to hide you two away from the world.

It's quite dark by the time he wanders over to the cot, dark enough not to notice himself brush against your legs as he takes a seat on the edge of the old creaking bed. The familiar, welcomed-warmth of his body pressing against your shins rouses you from your restful slumber. Your eyes flutter open to find his figure perched next to you, shrouded in a darkness so thick that you are sure you're still dreaming. His head and broad shoulders are slumped over as he begins working off his dusty boots, caked with remnants of mud and manure.

"Hmm... Arthur?" Your voice floats through the quiet darkness, laden with fatigue and clearly carrying the lassitude of someone who could fall back asleep at the drop of a hat.

He quickly glances over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, his eyes already adjusted enough to the shadows to see your tired face staring back at him with confusion. He silently curses himself for waking you. "Shhh, Darlin'. Don't wake up on my account. I'll be done in just a minute," Arthur lightly grunts out the last word as he struggles to remove his right boot.

Even in your own weary state, the exhaustion in his tone isn't lost on you. Thinking it best to rouse yourself as quickly as possible to free up his bed for him, you sit yourself up and will yourself awake with a slight stretch. "'S okay. You need rest more 'n me."

"No. You was restin' 'fore I got here. Go 'head and lay back down." He isn't having any of your courtesy tonight. He's worn out, far too tired to argue with you about whether or not it's appropriate for you to share his bed for the night.

The rest of the gang, aside from John, Abigail, Susan, and Hosea know nothing about the true nature of y'all's relationship. Although, the rest of the girls have picked up on the changes you've brought about in Arthur since your arrival so long ago now. Seeing him get all soft and doey-eyed at you over these last few weeks has most definitely tipped them off about what y'all really get up to when you're out running errands together. But they catch wind of you sleeping in his tent tonight, it will all but confirm their suspicions. And yet, you just can't bring yourself to move from the comfort of Arthur's cot with him sitting so close to you.

"What time is it?" The question falls from your lips, carried on the soft currents of a gentle breeze pushing through the tent flaps. Fine sinewy muscles flex beneath his shirt as he leans over to work off his other boot and you are powerless to admire the shape of his body beneath.

A muffled grunt escapes his mouth the moment he finally frees his aching feet from the confines of his boots, "Late," he simply replies.

You take a deep, cleansing breath, allowing the tranquility of the night to settle around you like a soft, comforting blanket. Outside these walls, no sounds of chatter or lively activity can be heard, aside from the gentle hum of crickets by the riverbank and the faint sounds of a squeaking cot stopping abruptly. The gang is unusually quiet, the air filled with repose now that Arthur's returned safely to you. Only a few stragglers tend to the campfires, their focus solely on themselves, interested in anything beyond the flickering flames; not even the sounds of Dutch and Molly or Arthur's irritation can disrupt the peaceful bubble encompassing Clemen's Point tonight.

The plush heel of your palm rubs over one of your eyes as you flit them toward the tent entrance, watching how the wind slightly ruffles the bottom of the canvas. It's only then that you realize that Arthur has tied down the walls for privacy on your account. Normally, he wouldn't bother setting up the walls before collapsing on the cot for a few restless hours of sleep. But tonight, he's gone out of his way to ensure your comfort. Your heart couldn't feel any more full of love for this man by your side, a man who puts your well-being above all else, even above his own. Never did you think that love would have been like this for you: sitting in the comfortable silence of privacy for lovers when that luxury is rarely afforded for women like you. But despite your gratitude for his thoughtfulness, a pang of guilt gnaws at you knowing he made the extra effort while you took up residence in his bed, a cot that's barely big enough for the two of you given your plump frame.

In an attempt to make up for taking up so much space, you roll yourself forward along the thin mattress and quickly slide past him, crawling toward the foot of his bed where his trunk of clothing is kept. You've decided to give him his space for the night, even though in your heart, you'd prefer to stay. Before your foot even slides off the trunk to touch the soft grass below, you're reminded of John stopping by Arthur's tent earlier in the day.

Through a half yawn, you speak, not giving Arthur the chance to catch-on to where you're headed, "'Fore I forget: John stopped by while you was out."

Arthur slightly leans back as his fingertips mindlessly fumble with the buckle of his gun belt. The slight clicking of the metal rings out as he works to remove the clunky accessory from his body. His strong back brushes against you as he moves with the comfortable ease he's come to enjoy over these last few weeks of secretly being yours.

"What about it?" His concentration is split half between himself and the presence of your body behind him.

Your words don't register in his mind until he's completely removed the belt from his body. He figures it was that stagecoach job he reluctantly handed off to John; it had completely slipped from his mind until this very moment, much like yourself. The cool metal filigree atop his trunk moves under your feet as you rest them just shy of slipping off its edge, causing the hazy memory to play out behind your tired eyes.

You were just settling yourself in, resting your weary body on the edge of Arthur's cot, just as you're doing now. Little beads of sweat accumulated on your forehead from working out in the intensity of Lemoyne's miserably humid heat. Grimshaw had you and the rest of the women working on camp chores, which you hadn't complained of, since it usually occupies the time until Arthur's usual return. However, the day was far too hot for you to not complain about the harsh conditions she had y'all in. Eventually, evening came and you were finally finished with the laundry, allowing you a moment's rest to seek out the comfort of Arthur's cot.

In the midst of wiping your brow down with one of his neckerchiefs you'd secretly swiped, the hard thump of boots hitting grass caught your attention. You'd anticipated Arthur's arrival, but something didn't feel quite right. The boots didn't move with Arthur's measured stride; they scuffed the grass and dirt, signaling a different, but familiar presence. The moment you look up, you spot John standing at the entrance of the tent, not at all surprised to see you sitting upon his cot as if it were your own.

For a brief moment, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. It was as if he was caught between the two warring emotions, each pulling him equally. Clearly, he expected Arthur to be back already.

"He not back yet?" The gruffness of his voice has you believe the former, rather than the latter.

"Not yet," you say in kind, hoping to ease some of his burden. "Was you needin' him for somethin'?"

John did and the news certainly wasn't going to sit well with Arthur at all.

When the thoughts finally coalesce within your fatigued mind, you internally grimace knowing that Arthur isn't going to like the reality of the situation. Gentleness has always been your strong suit, especially when it came to dealing with half of the bull-headed men in camp. So, you lace your words with the softest tone you can manage, "Said it weren't as much as y'all had planned on: about fifty-dollars tied up in what little him 'n Charles found."

And you were right. The news doesn't sit well with him at all. All of the compiled frustration of working a nothing-lead and now knowing that the other job didn't pay well either boils beneath the surface of his skin until he explodes like a whistling kettle. Preventing himself from lashing out at you, Arthur kicks his boot toward the other side of the tent, knocking it into the chair. The loud thunk of its sole hitting wood claps harshly and causes you to flinch, startling you fully awake from the suddenness of noise and his movement.

"Every goddamn day it's some shit," he spits through his teeth.

Although you know he'd never intentionally hurt you, the anger in his voice sends a cold shiver down your spine and your stomach flips and churns in knots. Usually, you'd blame yourself, reprimanding your big mouth for even opening up to mention something that you knew wouldn't bode well for his weary mind. But you're in too much of a shock to even consider self-deprecation as an option. Your wide eyes search through the darkness, watching the shadowed outline of the man you love heave in a deep breath to steal his nerves. His shoulders slump forward and head hangs low as he rests his elbows on his knees, utterly defeated from the compiled anger and exhaustion coursing through him.

It's at this moment that you remember the job Dutch sent him on earlier in the day; Arthur didn't want to go and had very little sleep after working on yet another lead that barely got them anywhere. If it had been left up to you, you would've made Arthur stay right here in this bed to get some rest like he deserves. You would've taken care of him so tenderly, but, as usual, what Dutch wanted would have far outweighed any of your concerns. You've learned to recognize the pattern of these situations by now, and given Arthur's aggression, assuming that today's job didn't go quite as planned would be hitting the nail right on its head. You test the waters with a quiet question, "Lead didn't pan out today, did it?"

The soft shake of Arthur's head, coupled with the shadow of his palm running over his face tells you all that you need to know: no, it hadn't gotten him any farther than where he had started. Another useless effort. Your heart aches watching him struggle with so much weight on his shoulders. No matter how strong Arthur might be, he's just a man struggling to carry his own burdens, let alone everyone else's. Ever since settling down here, Dutch has placed so much responsibility on him that you've wanted to scold the man for even mentioning Arthur's name in passing. He's worked himself thin and thread-bare, barely having any time for himself outside of the time he spends on the road traveling from place to place at Dutch's convenience.

Empathy for the man that you've fallen in love with so long ago breaks your heart, aching in desperation to relieve some of his pain. Instead of walking away, keeping to yourself, and silently shouldering any of the blame for setting him off, you choose to stay the night. Despite knowing full well that the girls will have their gossip circulating by morning, Arthur's needs are far more important than any snickering comment or playful jest that'll inevitably come your way.

You scoot back where you were and lean toward him with less apprehension than what your words had suggested. Resting your delicate palm between the broad expanse of his shoulders, you feel him tense at the soft slip of your tender touch over his shirt. The tips of your fingers glide over his shoulder and silently take purchase on the taut muscle there. With a gentle, yet firm pull, you coax Arthur back toward you.

"C'mere. Lean back 'n talk to me..." Your dulcet tone pierces through his irritation, encouraging him to rest in your awaiting arms.

Arthur slowly reclines back, allowing himself to unwind in your embrace as his much larger body sits snugly against your plump bosom. Relaxing doesn't come easy for him. Hell, you'd be surprised if it had, given the high tensions between him and Micah these days or the tiresome back and forth between the two rival families in Rhodes. He has every right to be terse and tensed up like a snake ready to strike, but you aim to comfort him even if that means you risk getting bit. Silence hangs in the air between you, aside from the gentle breaths and the occasional strained grunt catching in the back of his throat while he struggles to get comfortable against you, due to the remaining stress insisting on clinging to his tired body. Your loving hands splay out over the firm expanse of his chest, feeling the steady and reassuring thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms as you try your best to soothe your brooding lover. It's as if your mere presence cracks away at the anger lingering in the stiff tendons and taut plains of muscle along his torso until he relents and finally lets go. His body relaxes back into you as if he were sinking into the plush, luxurious drapery and bedding found in the finest hotels of Saint Denis; much like the bedding of the room he'd paid for the very same night he had whisked you away to bed you properly for your very first time.

He's silent for a long while, almost reluctant to burden you with his troubles. So, you take it up on yourself to start the conversation by spilling what had happened to you earlier in the day, thinking it might earn a laugh or two, "Well, I'm sure my day weren't as rough as your'n," you hum. "But I did fall off the dock, landing my hind-end right in that water."

The image would usually cause a humorous snort to escape him, but the irritation still bristling at his nerves prevents him from reacting with anything else other than a huff of annoyance, "I told ya to watch your footin' out there. Ain't no use to nobody if you get yourself drowned."

Fortunately, as he chides you his words begin to lack much of the anger from moments ago. But you sigh softly anyways, relenting to his incessant need to protect you from life's dangers, despite being able to handle your own, "I know, I know..."

With a few buttons of that old blue work shirt popped open by your deft fingers, the smallest opening there is just big enough to slip your hand inside and rest it up on the soft but wiry hairs at the very center of his chest. "You shoulda seen me, though," you murmur as you lean down toward his ear, lowering your tone as you press your cheek to the side of his head. "Was drenched head to toe, clothes clingin' to me like feathers on a wet chicken."

He sulks, trying to stay mad at anything and everything he can to give into the bristling anger at the back of his mind, but he can't. No, not when he can clearly envision you all soaked and surprised from falling into that cold lake. A faint smile curls up the corners of his lips and then, just as he almost chuckles, he clears his throat, holding his laugh back. However, you catch on far too quickly for him to play it off so easily.

You gasp softly in mock surprise as if offended by the idea of him laughing at you, "Arthur Morgan. Are you laughin' at me?"

That's when his temperament breaks, giving way to the huff of laughter rumbling through his chest. "I ain't laughin' atchu, per say..." he counters. "Just maybe at the thought of what ya mighta looked like comin' up outta that water: madder 'n hell, hair clingin' to your head," and as if to illustrate his point, Arthur reaches his hand backward and turns his head to try and catch a glimpse of you in the thick shadows, barely making your face distinguishable to his eyes, as he brushes his fingertips over the bits of hair clinging to your forehead from the muggy heat.

Though you narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, you lean into his calloused fingertips, accepting the gentleness of his touch while a giggle of your own creeps up into your throat, "Oh? Is 'at so? Maybe next time I find you out on that dock, I'll think 'bout pushin' ya in 'n lettin' you see how it feels."

He huffs out a skeptical breath and raises an eyebrow at the very thought of you even trying something like that with him. It'd be a futile effort and one that you truly wouldn't consider without the clear consequence of him pulling you right down with him.

And just as soon as the laughter came, it was gone again, replaced instead with a comfortable silence that settles between you two once more, giving him some space to think about what's happened to himself today. Long before the days of your arrival, Arthur would keep to himself and dwell on the ever-present burdens troubling his mind, brooding for hours. But with you, he feels a safety that men like him are rarely afforded.

"Well, if ya think fallin' in Flat Iron's bad..." he continues, "Try goin' halfway 'cross the state lookin' for a man that don't exist. Then when ya find someplace to get a drink, ya end up catchin' a few stray hits from some drunken bastard."

A soft gasp enters your lungs at the revelation. Another fight? You lean over his shoulder, reaching to take his scarred chin into your hand. It's hard to see through the inky-black darkness of the night, but even in the haziness, your eyes can make out the bruising along his jaw, the harsh scrapes of knuckles cutting over his cheek, and the jagged cut on his upper lip. It isn't a rare sight to have him come back battered and bruised by some job from time to time, but that still doesn't quell the uneasiness in your heart at him going through such pain and aggravation.

Your eyebrows furrow in sympathy for your rugged cowboy, eyes softening to match as you breathe out, "Oh, Arthur."

He's quick to dismiss your concern with a soft sigh, pulling away from you to lean forward and distract himself from your sympathetic gaze, "Ah, don'tchu go 'n worry yourself over me none, Darlin'."

Being fussed over or thought of so tenderly still isn't something he's used to; he's shown you that time and time again. But it never deters you from trying to make things better, to make things easier on him however you can. Whatever turmoil Arthur's got rolling about in his mind is far from the usual and it takes patience to understand; a patience that he finds only you can give.

You reach your hand out toward him. The delicate ends of your fingertips reach up to brush over the nape of his sun-kissed neck, grazing over the ends of his slightly overgrown hair, silently making a note to yourself that you'll trim it for him tomorrow. His body shuffles slightly backward, leaning in to accept your touch while he slips off his suspenders: pulling them down his shoulders heavy with burden, before taking his time to unbutton that tattered old work shirt you're so used to seeing around his muscular frame.

"'Sides..." he starts. "I did have some good that came from today."

"What's 'at?" you hum softly with a lilt of dryness. "Hittin' that feller back?"

He can't help the chuckle rising in his throat at the dry sarcasm touching your words. Arthur shakes his head softly, "Nah, Darlin', " the last word strains from his lips as he rises to his feet with a groan, leaving the safe comfort of your touch as he stands to undo his pants.

He glances over his shoulder, peering down at you through the darkness with a smirk curling up at the right corner of his mouth. Watching as your sweet eyes follow his every movement, Arthur turns to face you, allowing you to gaze at him as he slowly pushes the brass button through the eyelet at the top of his riding pants. The fabric opens effortlessly, revealing the red cloth of his union suit underneath. The sight of him before you, suspenders hanging loosely on either side of his long legs and his pants aching to be peeled from his strong form has your lips parted in awe at the man standing mere inches away from you.

He continues from just seconds before, "Seein' you laid out on my bed, purdy as a dream."

After stepping out of his pants now crumpled around his ankles, Arthur lowers one knee upon the cot nearest your thighs. He leans over you, using his thick fingers to tilt your chin upward, meeting his crystalline eyes. "Was one helluva sight I could get used to seein'."

The low timbre of his voice sends a shockwave of desire straight through your heart and into the aching pit of your stomach. Your lips draw up into a shy smile, and a faint dusting of pink envelops your cheeks just like the moment you'd first professed your feelings for him under that canopy of trees he led you through so blindly. Although it hasn't been long since that fateful night, the closeness of your relationship has escalated so quickly that your head and heart dizzy at the mere mention of his name.

Arthur's calloused thumb brushes over the supple swell of your bottom lip, enticing you to part them just for him. You comply, of course, unable to resist how a ghost of his touch makes you so pliant beneath him. And when he leans down to meet your lips with his own, your heart swells with tender affection. Those warm, slightly chapped, but pleasantly plush lips are heady as they connect with a passion that stokes the burning coals of desire in the very base of your core.

"Been waitin' to use that one for a while, hmm?" You hum contently while blindly guiding your hands toward the flare of muscle encasing his ribs. God, how you could worship this man and never tire of feeling how warm, how strong he is beneath your palms.

"Depends. It workin'?" He murmurs, smirking cockily against your lips.

Your mind begins to spin as the calloused pad of his thumb dips from your chin and swipes over your jawline. His fingers splay out over the side of your neck, fingertips gripping you with tender passion to hold you in place. He could easily break you, bend you with his finger and thumb as if you were nothing more than a twig beneath his rough and weathered hands. Never have you felt so small and fragile, always knowing in your heart that you took up much more room than other women. But, when you're with Arthur, he makes you feel as delicate as the petals on a beautiful flower, something so precious and worth loving; it's so much more than you'd ever experienced in your whole life. He touches you so tenderly as if you were made from nothing more than ash, a veritable pile of matter waiting to slip through his fingers at any moment.

You want to hum your praises to your lover, to let him know exactly how much you've wanted this, how much you've missed him, how well he's kissing you, touching you... But you can't. There are no words. He's stolen them from you, drawing all the air out of your lungs with his lips, leaving you gasping for the air coated in his divine masculine scent: sweet tobacco, wood ash, and mossy earth. He encompasses you, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulls you close to his body, all the while shuffling himself forward to join you on the small cot. Your back presses against the hard wooden frame of the wagon making up the other half of his tent. He presses against you, holding you close to his strong body as he slides his right hand from your jaw, trailing it down over the soft skin of your neck, and down to your chest, where he heatedly palms your breast hidden just beneath your blouse. To have him touch you like this, like a man frenzied and dying for a taste of intimacy, has your head spinning and your heart on the verge of exploding if it hadn't already; for all you know, you could've died the moment his lips crashed into yours, and all that's left is a heaven you'd only dreamt of.

A low growl of appreciation rumbles through his chest for the plumpness of your body. Most men do not know the fine pleasures that extra curves on a woman can bring. But Arthur sure does. And oh how he worships your full figure, despite your opinions about yourself. His large, calloused palm shifts his attention to your other breast, kneading you tenderly while his lips work from your mouth, and instead, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses over your jawline and supple neck.

His name is a breathless sigh across your trembling lips as you allow your hands to explore his body in return. Touching over the large expanse of his torso and gliding your fingertips over the worn fabric of his union suit, you desperately search for the button that would bare him wholly to you. In the time it takes you to undo one of his buttons, his skilled fingers undo two of yours. Button after button unthreads upon both of your bodies, though his hands are much quicker at ridding you of your layers, leaving them strewn about on the ground until he's stripped you down and laid you beneath him in nothing more than your chemise and bloomers to conceal your decency. Arthur then crawls over you, his movements deliberate and enticingly slow as he cages you in with his hands pressed into the thin mattress on either side of your head. Shadows danced and shifted restlessly, playing tricks on your perception as you try to focus on what little of Arthur you could see through the haziness, making the absence of light feel alive. To feel him above you like this has your stomach in knots, tightening with a firey passion that's ready to snap at any given moment. Hearts are pounding, thrumming wildly against your ribcages like birds desperate to escape the confines of your chests. You hear it, hear how his breath shutters with each wild thump of his heart, and you feel it in his breath as it puffs over your cheek. He's losing himself to you and you him, slipping so quickly that rational thinking is no longer of use. You need him and he needs you.

The flaps of his union suit hang loosely from his body, allowing your hands to reach in and press flat over his heated skin. He shivers slightly at the contact, his muscles tensing and flexing beneath the tender meeting of your palms placed upon his scarred, goose-pimpled flesh. Your fingertips ghost over a scar on the right side of his ribcage, causing your face to crinkle with sorrow for what hardship your lover, this great outlaw, has had to endure in his lifetime. The damaged tissue is the result of a nasty fight he had as a young man: when someone stabbed him with the broken end of a beer bottle; they had aimed to kill him, but he had survived. The spot still aches with the memory of Hosea digging out the shards of broken glass from the angry, bloodied wound. But somehow, the way your delicate touch brushes over that old scar with such love and care causes the outlaw's skin to tingle, and his cock to ache with the pride of knowing that you love him so.

He takes his time with you here, laid out beneath him like a perfect little thing he's captured and kept safe by hiding you away in the privacy of his tent. After the day he's had, he wants to savor every bit of loveliness he's blessed with in your presence, so he can't rush this with you, not now. Arthur takes his time admiring you, letting his eyes rake over what he's able to see, and feeling what he cannot. Leaning down close enough to your face to capture that seductive glint in your glittering, lust-blown eyes, Arthur searches for any change within them as he maneuvers his right hand away from the mattress to trail along your sensitive flesh. The rough pads of his fingers ghost over your thigh, caressing the plump deposit of flesh along your middle, snaking up over your collarbones, and over your neck in search of your delicate face before sealing your mouth with his own in a kiss so tender you whimper from the initial contact.

Shivers of anticipation roll through him as your body responds to his touch: back arching off the bed, hands pulling on the nape of his neck to hold him down and assure that his lips won't leave yours, and the way your bloomer-clad hips roll upward in search of some much-needed friction. God how he could spend hours with you like this, letting his hands roam over your body to make you shiver and plead for any ounce of affection that he can give you. Your needy state is only exacerbated by the slight tremble in your thighs as he snakes his hands down over the pillowy flesh, seeking out the waistband of your bloomers. Ridding you of the cloth separating your pussy from his line of sight is an easy feat: the clad, slightly damp undergarment peels away from your plump hips with ease at the help of his precision; the Lemoyne heat causes the clothing to stick to your slightly dampened skin, but dammit if the temperature pales in comparison to how heated Arthur makes you feel. He tosses them down onto the ground, and places his hands upon your knees, spreading them apart as he sits above you to admire the feeling of your plump body beneath him.

His hand is unhurried and exacting, gently brushing his calloused knuckles down over your inner thigh, then lightly petting them over your soaked need covered by a soft thatch of hair. He can't see you fully, but that does nothing to stop his mind from envisioning how your cunt glistens with slick, all for him. The moment he presses his fingertips to your seam, parting you with the practiced precision of a lover, he lets a low, ragged breath escape his nose in appreciation for how wet you are. You shiver and instinctively try to close your knees from the pleasant surprise of his touch, and fuck does it feel good to have him brush over your folds like that.

"Always so ready, ain'tchya?" He murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice as he takes his time in savoring the feeling of your slick upon his fingertips.

Your hips involuntarily twitch, bucking upward into his hand, seeking out his fingertips to make him swirl them over your aching little clit. You want him to touch you right where you need him, feel him right on that little spot upon that nub of nerves that makes your mind swirl and your body careen into a blissful orgasm. But he doesn't give that to you, not yet. He wants to work you over slowly, savoring every little sound he can draw out of those pretty lips. You're far too shy to answer him directly, instead favoring to cover your face with your forearms as he takes pleasure in taunting you like this. But the moment his fingertips threaten to part your folds, you let out a delicate little noise, someplace between a whine and a prayer to let him know that you're in no mood to endure his teasing tonight, "Arthur... Please."

Oh, how he loves to hear the sound of you begging; he's already half-hard at the idea of you wanting his touch, let alone hearing how desperate you are for it. He answers your prayer with a long, smooth stroke of his thumb parting your puffy, wet folds. You keen at how just a simple touch causes your stomach to flutter and your slit to clench around nothing at all. Your thighs, thick with strength, covered by a layer of squishy softness, part for him, relaxing lazily as he guides his thumb over each of your labia.

It was nearly impossible to get you to lay like this for him a few weeks ago; you'd been concerned about the unsightly appearance of your inner thighs: scarred over with dimples and imperfections, as well as the slight discoloration of having them rub together after so many years of being a larger woman. Most women that you've seen naked, don't have the same ailments upon their bodies as you have on yours. Just the other day when bathing with some of the girls in the lake, you'd noticed that even on Karen's body, a woman closer to your size, still didn't have the scars or discoloration across her skin in the same way that you have. And that night that Arthur had you laid out for him for the very first time, he'd noticed that apprehension in you, taking it as having second thoughts. But once you had explained how you felt about your own body, he hadn't even given the idea a single thought; his own body is mauled up, covered in old and ugly scars, and carrying more than three colors from all his time spent out in the sun. So, he couldn't have cared less about some scars, a little extra hair, weight, or even the discoloration over your thighs. What he did care about, however, was making sure that you felt loved in spite of it all. And now, it feels no different. To have you spread your legs for him like this, without a single worry holding you back, is a goddamn treat.

Fuck how good it feels to have the soft press of his thumb tease over your cunt, tracing the delicate path between your weeping entrance, to your swelling bud with a pressure so teasing and light that you squirm to feel more. Your plush lips tuck between your teeth to hold back any sounds that give away what you two are doing in here after dark, but it's useless; the lewd sounds of his thumb circling over your clit echo throughout the tent: a dead giveaway to anyone that dare walk by. Holding your breath like this isn't easy, not when the pounding of your heart echoes in your ears and your chest feels as if it's being seared from the inside out. A ragged gasp finally inhales through your nostrils, desperately trying to fulfill your body's need for air when you can no longer restrain your breaths.

He huffs out a low chuckle in amusement at the state he has you in: clearly desperate and in need to have your clit rubbed just the way you like it.

"Hmm.. Hear that?" He rasps out before going silent, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being spread over your soaked cunt. He only continues when he finally reaches your clit, circling over the throbbing little nerve-ending to make you sigh out in pleasure for him. "So goddamn wet. All for me."

In a blur of movements, Arthur's chapped lips and teeth skim over your knee, slowly working their way down over your inner thighs. He nips at you, earning a few little squeaks and giggles until he kisses over your plump mound. His thumbs take hold of either side of your cunt, spreading you open to let the night air hit your wet skin. It's pleasant like this, to feel yourself spread out beneath him like a meal ready to be devoured and dammit if he ain't starved for a taste. Being eaten out has quickly become one of your favorite acts of intimacy in recent weeks; his tongue is so skilled at finding spots on you, making you come so deliciously, that most days it's all you've been able to think about. Hell, it's all you're thinking about now as his head sinks down to your core and his hot breath fans out over your aching need. His tongue slips out of that perfect mouth and flattens out over your seam, lapping at you once to earn him that little sigh of pleasure escaping your throat.

Your hands immediately seek out his head, combing through his slightly sweat-dampened hair as he swirls the blunt tip of his tongue over your clit.

"A-Agh, Arthur.. N-Not so fast," you whine out in protest, yet your hips bucking up into his mouth says otherwise. But he relents, nonetheless, giving you a moment of reprieve before he delves back in at the same pace.

He's aiming to make you cum quick and hard: slithering his tongue over your clit with the precision of knowing exactly what side and spot makes you writhe beneath him. Just left and then a little upward beneath that little hood of skin and he has you singing for him. Explicitves roll off your tongue one after another in between sweet little sounds that praise him for what effort he's putting in just for you. To hear you, feel you crumble beneath him like this is better than any robbery or score he gets out on the road. But just before he lets you come, he pulls his head back slightly and puffs cool air over your clit, making you whine.

"Shh.. Shh.. 'M gonna let ya cum, Darlin'. Don'tchu worry 'bout that none. 'M gonna take real good care of ya," he hums lowly as his lips and bristly scruff brush over your quivering inner thighs.

His promise isn't far off from fulfillment, not when he sinks his tongue into your heat and presses his opened mouth over the entirety of your cunt. He sucks hard, feeling your walls constrict around the wriggling muscle of his tongue as he laps inside your spongey center. Your thighs tremble with need as he fucks you with his mouth and slurps up your slick, drinking in as much of you as he can and relishing the tangy sweetness of your delectable taste. You throw your head back against the rolled-up blanket you had been using as a pillow earlier in the night, all while he eats you out like a man who's desperate to consume you.

But the aching throb of his cock, constricted by the thin fabric of his union suit, is far too angry for him to ignore. He's got to have you, now.

As he shuffles back up to his knees, leaving your cunt longing to cum on his tongue, you flutter your eyes open and snap your head up to try and catch a glimpse of what he's doing. Clearly, you ain't pleased with him teasing you like this, but when you feel his fervent movements, you realize that he's trying to work off his union suit. He wastes no time it peeling it away from his torso, but the moment he starts to tug it down his thighs, allowing his weeping cock to spring free, he nearly topples over and just about slams head-first into your body. Thankfully, he catches himself in the knick of time, grunting out a few curses as he grows impatient with his incapability to slide that damn fabric off his legs.

Amid his struggle to bare himself, you can't hide the giggle creeping up your throat as he curses under his breath, frustrated with how the fabric insists on clinging to his muscular legs. You help him slide the old red union suit off his body by digging your heels against the back of his thighs and pushing it down the long length of his legs until it reaches his ankles. The undergarment hangs loosely off his feet, causing him to kick it haphazardly off the side of the bed, letting it fall onto his trunk to skirt down on the grass below.

The instant his turgid length brushes over your inner thigh it twitches with the anticipation of feeling your tight, wet walls clamped around him, milking every drop of spend nestled away in his balls; spend that he so desperately wishes he could drain right inside of you. For now, however, just a single brush of your fingertips against him is enough. He has to hold his breath as he guides your delicate palm over his velvety shaft to stroke the needy ache away; if he isn't careful, he'd cum just like this. He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as your fingers wrap around him and your thumb seeks out the weeping slit of his blunt tip. Arthur is, by no means, a small man: his legs are long, torso strong and wide, feet and hands are like bear paws, and his cock.. God, his cock is big. You could use both of your hands to stroke him and still, there'd be enough room for his tip to be entirely untouched. But you make sure as you stroke him with one hand, you pay extra attention to his tip, smearing his drooling precum over as much of him as you can, even down to the dark and wiry curls along his base and balls.

He's trying so hard to hold himself back, but with each tender pass of your thumb over that sweet spot along the underside of his tip, the last remnants of his patience crack away. You feel him crumbling like this, crumbling into a frenzied mess of low-hummed breaths and grunts through gritted teeth, and you fucking love it. Before you can even think about the desire roaring in the cavernous pit of your stomach, aching to be quelled, he smashes his lips into yours so hard that you're sure one of you is bleeding. The pain of his busted lip splitting back open is an angry reminder of the frustration still lingering at the back of his mind; he's as tensed up, pent-up, as a taut rope ready to snap.

With a quick movement, he swats your hand away, preventing you from jacking him into a fast climax. Then, in one swift motion, he grabs hold of your thighs and forcefully yanks you toward him, making the round swell of your plump ass plant firmly against the hard front of his strong body. Your thighs spread out, squishing over and conforming to the contour of his hips, the intimate contact leaving you both ragged and breathless. Your heart drums a frantic rhythm in your ears, drowning out all other thoughts and sensations that belong to you alone. It's as if your mind has descended into a tangled web of strangled noises and glorious sensations that only Arthur seems able to untangle or soothe. The faint outline of his body nestled between your thighs is a constant reminder that nothing beyond this moment, beyond him hidden away with you inside of this tent, matters.

The hard length of his turgid pride parts your folds, gliding over the slick thatch of curls usually concealing your cunt from his eyes, but with his sight hindered, he can explore every single nook, roll, and crevice without you shying away. His weight bares down on you as he holds your legs into the crook of his arms, nearly bending you in half as he drags his cock over your seam. It feels so good like this, even though you can hardly breathe with the thickness of your thighs pressing against your already plump stomach, but when the tip of his cock knocks into your clit, it makes the strained pain well worth it. The back of your hand flies over your mouth as he continues on like this, pleasuring himself and you with each agonizingly slow thrust. Hearing your ragged, strangled half-breaths, he releases your thighs, leaving them to splay out lazily on either side of his hips as he leans down to steal a tender kiss.

Upon breaking his lips away from yours, the low hum of his voice finds its way through the haziness of your lust-broken mind as he murmurs against the shell of your ear, "Gonna take ya just like this..."

Chapped lips skim over your jawline and trail to your lips, where he gives you another tender kiss filled with gentle affection: polar opposite to the rough sex-driven outlaw you've gotten a taste of tonight, but aligning perfectly with the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Scraped knuckles skim against your slick heat as he slips his hand in between you both and presses flat over the thick, dark curls at the base of his throbbing length. His fingers spread wide over his pubic bone, holding his cock between his middle and ring finger, stiffening himself outward to seek out your clenched entrance. With a slight pullback of his hips, he guides himself to your slit, catching right on the taut muscle before pressing forward and splitting you open.

A soft cry hums in the back of your throat and he shushes you so tenderly, sliding his hands over your knees and down your shins to soothe the ache he knows you're feeling. You're so fucking tight, hardly different from the first night he took you and bedded you properly back at the Saint's Hotel. It nearly shatters him when your walls flutter around him, squeezing and pulling him in inch by inch as if you were carved out just for him to sink into. He stills only for a short moment, letting you feel him nestled up against your cervix before he slides himself out and enters you again with a sharp snap of his hips. Lingering anger and frustration from the shit day he's had still pulsates at the back of his mind, desperate to be released as the tension in his body rises.

The tight walls of your cunt clench onto him for dear life as jolts of pleasure and pain rack through your body.

Behind the shield of your palm, you cry out, "A-Agh, Arthur!"

You're trying your best to be quiet, to still your ragged breaths and hide your whimpers, but he's making it incredibly difficult. Each slow drag of his cock coming out of you with a satisfying pop, only to pierce you with a hard roll of his hips, sends you reeling. You're seeing stars, shaking from the pleasurable burn of the passionate fire he's stirring within you. Strong hands grip your hips, keeping you still as his thrusts guide you into a steady rhythm that makes the old wooden frame creak and groan with every subtle and sharp movement that your bodies make. Being discreet has left his mind entirely, no longer concerned with what sounds are coming out of his tent as he fucks you good and proper. No, he couldn't care less when the sounds of your slick pussy squelches as he presses himself flush against you and groans against the pulse point of your neck.

"Don't want ya hidin' them purdy sounds, Darlin'. Let 'em out for me," he grunts out between slow but hard thrusts.

Usually, intimacy like this is savored in the shaking breaths and whispered little sounds only audible to your ears, but tonight... Tonight Arthur is something else entirely. Primal. A damn, dirty outlaw. You love this new view of him, but you can't allow yourself to let the others hear. What if someone were walking by? Or Hosea or Dutch hear you two going at it? You wouldn't be able to look at them for a week! But he doesn't give you much choice in the matter: snaking his hand down between your bodies, his muscular forearm presses against your plush belly while his thumb immediately finds your clit.

"O-Oh, God," you whine as the pad of his thumb circles over you, followed by his name dripping off your tongue like the sweetest honey. "At's it... Such a good girl takin' me so deep. Mmm.. Gonna cum 'round me ain'tchu? Gonna give me a real good one, baby?"

God damn him if his mouth ain't filthy. The way he croons out those little praises and words of encouragement has your climax building faster than you ever could have anticipated. And the swirling of his thumb? It has you shaking, whining, pleading, practically begging for your release as he talks you through it, "C'mon, Darlin'... I feel ya squeezin' me real tight," he praises, "'At's it. Focus on me."

With one more swipe of his thumb over your sensitive clit and his cock hitting that sweet spot right against your cervix, you're tensing, digging your heels into the thin mattress, and cumming around him so hard that you see white. It takes everything in you not to scream, but the strangled sound coming out of you is loud enough to warrant some head-turning if anyone were awake. The moment your walls flutter and start milking him, he falls forward and drops down onto his elbows to cage you in. His thrusts are relentless as he takes his anger out on you in this way, using every movement of his body to release the bristling anger clutching onto his mind like a damn vice grip. No matter how fervent and frenzied, he's still careful not to hurt you, always thinking about how good he's making you feel while chasing his own release.

Arthur isn't a man of many words, but when you're gripped around him like this, clutching him with your arms, legs, and your fluttering pussy, he is downright mouthy. "Oh, such a good girl for listenin' to me. Shh.. Shh. I gotchu, baby. I gotchu."

His mouth hovers over yours, claiming your lips as he kisses you hard and possessively. Moans spill out of you, traveling through the expanse of his throat until it hums within his chest and he echoes one back. To talk like this with him, in a language only two lovers could understand, is far more intimate and pleasurable than anyone could ever know. Arthur is yours and you are his, no ownership or proprietary claim, but just the pleasant knowledge that both of you choose to love each other is enough.

With a few more rolls of his hips, he's nearing his own orgasm: length twitching and engorging as his balls tighten. In desperation, he quickly climbs off of you and pulls his cock out from your core. His right hand tightens into a fist around himself, and although you can't see it, you hear the lewd, effortless slide of his hand vigorously pumping over his tip like his life depends on cumming for you.

Finally, his orgasm hits him, working its way out of his tightened balls and spurting over your plump mound and belly. If he could see his spend on you like this, it'd be enough to make him cum all over again. But both of you are far too exhausted to even consider that so soon. You're still shaking, panting heavily as he lowers himself down onto you, not caring that his sticky spend is now covering the front of his body as well, as your sweaty bodies come down from such an enormous height.

His touch traces a slow, deliberate path down your leg until his fingertips reach the softness of your hip, where he gives your flesh a gentle but firm grasp. Reveling in the smoothness of your skin and the feel of your curvy form beneath his palm, he lets out a slow exhale through his nose. The heat of his breath spills over your neck and shoulder, doubled by the heavy breaths leaving his lips as he lazily peppers your clammy skin with kisses.

After a long stretch of quiet spent nestled into his hair, breathing in the comforting remnants of campfire intermingled with his musky scent, your breathing finally begins to steady. Slowly, your senses return to you one by one, like pieces of a puzzle falling back into place. Shock and disbelief jolt through your entire being as it finally hits you how easily he manipulated your body with his own strength and skill as a lover. You'd heard of men being rough with women, but never did you think it could be this pleasurable.

Your voice finally cuts through the relative silence, carrying a deep sense of satisfaction and astonishment with it, "Wh-here in the hell did that come from?"

An amused chuckle rumbles inside his chest, slightly huffing out of his nose as he slightly pushes himself off of you to gauge your reaction, "Reckon I were a little pent up. Why? You like it?"

To say you liked it was an understatement, but you'd like anything as long as Arthur were right there with you to experience it just the same. While his right hand slides up over the plump contours of your body, appreciatively grabbing at the plushness of your stomach and breasts, he lovingly brushes a few stray strands of hair off your forehead stuck there by the sweat covering your body. You hum softly in agreement to his question, deciding that you did enjoy this different side of him you hadn't expected, despite his rough exterior.

"Mhmm.. 'S always good with you," the loving words you murmur cling to his heart and earn you a pleasant kiss that tastes like the remnants of his busted lip.

As his lips trail back down over your jawline, his beard delightfully scratches over your sensitive skin, causing you to hum in appreciation for him loving you like a man who worships the very ground you walk upon. Your own body follows his lead, fingertips glide down the entire length of his back, tracing the contour of muscle that hint at the immense strength lurking beneath. You can't help but marvel at his shape, this man you love so dearly, and how his body was molded for love and carved from such a hard life. While your fingertips glide across his muscled frame, you can feel the subtle shift of his body as he adjusts himself on top of you, notricebly more relaxed than before: a clear testamanet to the calming eddect your touch has on him.

Curiosity peaked, you murmur, "You relaxed now?" as your fingertips idly trace the two little dimples that grace the base of his spine, just above the firm and muscular curve of his ass.

An amused smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, obviously enjoying the path your fingertips are carving out over his back. He'd never admit it, but he loves it when you grab him unabashedly, palming his ass like he so often does to you. The warmth of his cock brushing over your leg, hardening much faster than he expected for a man his age, tells you all you need to know.

He agrees with you, humming softly against your chest as he inches himself down to where his mouth hovers over the plump swell of your breasts, "Thinkin' that we just might need a little more time for relaxin', don'tchu?"

A/N: Big thanks for the divider from @saradika-graphics and the beautiful gif from @sunwingsunset, please go send them some love for their work! <3

Other creators that expressed interest and drew inspiration from: @subpopizzy , @cassietrn , @coltermorning , @redwritr, @zae-heeyyy, @twola , @amorgansgal

Please do go check all the blogs I tagged! You surely won't be disappointed!

As always, sending my love - M. <3

#Thank you for reading - from the bottom of my little Appalachian Heart <3 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan #rdr2 community #grumpy #fluff #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #rdr #dutch van der linde #molly o'shea #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you

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tac-the-unseen · 7 months ago

Note

I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?

(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)

Absolutely, I can!

And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.

Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!

Slashers x Foreigner!Reader

Micheal Myers:

•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive)

•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.

•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.

•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is.

•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them

•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”

•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey

•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say.

•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week.

•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’

•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language)

Thomas Hewitt:

•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.

•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?

•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent

•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you

•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across.

•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it.

•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection.

•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could

Bubba Sawyer:

•He had no idea people outside of America existed

•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.

•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you.

•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.

•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently.

•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)

Bo Sinclair:

•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(

•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?”

•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something.

•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”

•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun

•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while

Vincent Sinclair:

•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other

•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across

•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!

•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word.

•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off.

Lester Sinclair:

•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!

•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here

•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say.

•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?”

•So helpful, I know

•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up.

•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!”

Billy Lenz:

•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say

•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together

•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up

•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.

•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.”

Brahms Heelshire:

•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner

•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue

•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably

•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask.

•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you.

•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help

•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.

Hannibal Lecter:

•Now Hannibal really understands

•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old

•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling.

•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again.

1) Identify what you're trying to say

2)Slowly begin to sound out the word

3)Have you recite the word a few times

4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment

•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works

•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask

•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time

Will Graham:

•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it

•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.

•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something

•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened

The Lost Boys:

•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one

•David

-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.

-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could

-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean.

•Dwayne

-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages

-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching

-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say.

•Paul

-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off

-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there

-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???”

-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh

•Marko

-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck

-”Come on babe, you'll get it”

-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

Text

sleepover. l Joel Miller

Summary: the house was quiet and you missed each other very much

Warnings: +18, smut, swearing, unprotected sex (remember - safety first), oral sex (getting f), oral sex (m receiving)

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing anything today, but here it is. I hope it brightens your day. Your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

You couldn't remember the last time your house was this quiet. It was a strange, but quite pleasant feeling.

You made yourself a big cup of tea, lit a scented candle and started on the mountain of freshly done laundry that was waiting to be folded and sorted. It was already getting dark outside and you could hear the cicadas through the open kitchen window. You liked moments like this.

You pulled a small pink t-shirt with the words "Daddy's little girl" written on it from the pile and smiled. Nothing had been the same since Sarah had appeared in your lives. Five years had passed and you had the impression that you had only come back from the hospital with her a week ago. She was your dream child - smiling, smart and beautiful. And totally in love with her father.

You put her t-shirt on one pile and reached for another one. This one was bigger and more worn. It was definitely your husband's t-shirt. Joel Miller was the man of your life. Even though everyday life wasn't all colorful, you were grateful that you had someone so stable and caring for you, and the little one, next to you.

You were lost in your thoughts and assembling the next parts of your family's wardrobe when you heard the slam of the front door and the sound of keys being thrown on a nearby table.

"Hi, honey!"

Heavy footsteps headed to the kitchen, the fridge door slammed and Joel soon stood in the living room door sipping a can of cold cola.

"Rough day?" you asked, looking at him from behind a pile of clothes.

"Yeah." he mumbled taking off his shoes "This project is killing me, but it's getting closer to the end."

He looked around the room, frowning, and then leaned back, glancing towards the stairs and listening carefully.

"Sarah is asleep already?" he was surprised, glancing at his watch "It's only seven."

"Our daughter is at Susan's birthday party today." you replied, smiling "I feel sorry for her parents. Six kids at home, and they have sleepovers."

"Crazy people." Joel finished his coke. "A year ago I had to fix her bed when her friends visited. They turned it into a trampoline."

"You'll miss it when she disappears from home for the whole evening and comes back drunk."

"No fucking way! Sarah won't leave this house until she's 21."

You looked at him with pity. For a moment, he turned the empty can in his fingers. He also noticed the silence in the house.

"You know..." he began after a moment. "This is probably the first evening, I don't know how long, since we've been home alone."

"Yeah, I noticed that too."

"Alone." Joel repeated the last word with great emphasis.

"Are you suggesting something?"

He raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously. You knew perfectly well what he meant. The last few days have been quite hard for you. Household chores, work, Joel's project, shopping, a five-year-old girl with a ton of questions and ideas. In the evenings, you were literally falling on your face. Any tenderness was at the bottom of your "to do" list.

"I dream of a hot bath." You stuck out your lower lip like a sad child "Candles, scented bubble bath..."

"Really?" he approached you "What else do you dream of?"

"About food that I don't have to make by myself."

"I'll order something for us. Chinese? Or maybe pizza?"

"I don't know."

"So let me take some of your time, and then we'll think about it together."

He took your face in his warm hands and kissed you tenderly. He tasted like cola and mint gum. You could smell the wood and the remnants of his cologne, the scent of your husband.

His tongue slipped between your lips, deepening the kiss, and soon you were purring with pleasure. You got up from the couch and moved closer to him, sliding your hands under his shirt.

It was starting to get nicer when you suddenly heard the sound of his phone.

"Fuck!" he cursed, pulling the phone out of his jeans pocket. "It's Tommy. It can wait."

"Are you sure?"

Joel cursed again under his breath and answered the call. You didn't listen to their conversation, but your hands started wandering over his body again. You moved closer.

"I'll sort it out. Tomorrow." he moaned quietly as your lips began to caress his neck, Joel rolled his eyes. "Nothing. I stepped on a fucking block, Sarah leaves toys everywhere." you giggled, his hand squeezed your buttock warningly. "The delivery will be tomorrow, I already talked to the driver." Your lips caught his earlobe and you sucked it lightly "Fuck, Tommy! Can we do this tomorrow? It's not that important. Yeah, I'm really busy! Bye!"

He threw his phone on the couch and gave you a reprimanding look.

"You really don't know how to behave when someone's talking, do you?" he asked.

"I don't know." You smiled as both of his hands found their way to your buttocks, kneading them "Maybe you should teach me."

Joel growled and you felt the cock in his jeans twitch restlessly. You tried to remember the last time you felt him inside you and it wasn't a quickie. Soon you felt a pleasant arousal between your thighs.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom or are we staying here?"

"Let's stay."

You kissed him and felt him lead you to the couch, you hit it with your legs. Your clothes quickly and efficiently found themselves on the floor. You sighed quietly at the sight of his hard member, the glistening precum on its red tip. Your husband was definitely generously endowed by nature. Your lips became wetter at the sight.

"Do you like it?" he asked, smiling slyly, "Go ahead, take it."

You sat down on the couch and had Joel's cock at eye level. The perfect position. He grabbed your hair, pushing it away from your face so it wouldn't get in your way, and you gave his soft belly a few kisses.

You took his cock in your hand and gave him a few strokes. Joel watched you carefully and let out a breath when you put it in your mouth. You felt its weight on your tongue, the slightly salty taste and the delicate skin. You purred quietly, sending vibrations into his core. You started moving, teasing the tip with your tongue, sucking as if you had a favorite toy in your hands.

"Baby, deeper, please..."

And you did. His tip hit the back of your throat, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you began to choke. Joel held your head and began to move himself, thrusting in and out of your mouth. Loud moans left his throat.

"Fuck... I love your mouth, baby. If I didn't love your pussy so much I'd spend every free moment there. Jesus, just perfect!"

You liked it when he used you like that. He was never too rough, always knowing what and how to do to make you feel comfortable.

"Baby, I want to feel you." he whispered feverishly, withdrawing from between your lips. "I want to be inside you so bad. C'mon! Will you ride me, baby?"

You nodded, and he took you in his arms, kissing you deeply. He slid his hand between your thighs.

"Fuck, you're so wet already." he remarked, delighted. "I guess I need to take better care of my wife."

"You'll do it later." you mumbled, pushing him onto the couch and straddling his hips. "Now I want you inside. Damn, Joel! Don't make me wait any longer."

He positioned his cock so that it was just below your entrance. You held your arms on the back of the couch and let Joel's hand on your hip guide you lower. The tip slid in smoothly and soon the entire cock was inside. His length wonderfully stretched your walls and filled you completely.

"Jesus..." you sighed closing your eyes "I missed this so much."

"I know, I know baby." Joel showered kisses on your neck and collarbone "We work too much. You take care of Sarah, the house and me. We don't have enough time for each other..."

You stroked his rough cheek and looked into those wonderfully sweet eyes. He was such an amazing man. Even though he worked hard himself, he always thought of you first. You pressed your lips to his wishing that this kiss would take away at least a little of the burden from him.

When you started moving up and down, you both pulled away from each other. You rested your forehead against his, squeezing your eyes shut. Every movement of his insides was captivating, you needed him so much, your body was hungry for closeness.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and your breaths filled your ears. Joel grabbed your breast, squeezing it tightly. His fingers teased your nipple, rolling it. Finally his mouth engulfed it and he began to suck it, teasing it with his tongue.

Your thighs were already aching, but you didn't slow down. You wanted to feel him more, harder, deeper.

"Fuck! Joel!" you gasped, "I'm so close!"

"Me too! Damn, you can break me, but don't stop!" he groaned, "I love your pussy! After all this, I'll eat you out so hard you'll scream out loud."

"You promised me a bath." you noted, smiling.

"After the bath." he corrected himself, "Shit! I'm gonna... Fuck!"

His cock was hitting exactly where you needed it. Strong hands held your hips tightly as he pressed you even harder. Your legs were already starting to go numb.

And then it happened. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body tensed, an incredible shiver ran through your body as your velvet walls tightened around Joel's cock, sending pulsating spasms into your core. A loud moan escaped your throat.

Joel was right behind you. He used your body, after a few deep and frantic thrusts he came with a loud and deep groan. His cock poured streams of white cum into you, filling you to the brim.

"Fuckfuckfuck...."

"I know, baby. I know." you kissed his sweaty cheeks, eyelids, nose and lips. "Damn, we have to do this more often if we want to think about a sibling for Sarah."

"Don't talk about it." Joel lazily opened his eyelids, looking at you with dreamy eyes. "The thought of putting a baby inside you... Your swollen belly, your big breasts... I'll get hard again soon, but… I promised you a bath."

You giggled, hiding your face in the area of his neck and inhaling his scent. You could feel his heart beating, his hands stroking your back.

It was a perfect and peaceful evening. Your thoughts wandered between a bath, the food you would eat together and even more sex with your own husband.

"I think we should buy a bottle of wine for Susan's parents." Joel stated after a moment. "Maybe they'll have sleepovers more often."

"You think so?"

"If it means I'll have my wife to myself more often too, it's worth considering."

You lightly patted his shoulder and sat up. Brown eyes moved over your breasts with admiration.

"C'mon, handsome." you said. "You promised me so much, and time is running out."

Joel really wanted to fulfill his promises. And most of all, the one where his head was supposed to be between your thighs.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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sturniqlo · 3 months ago

Text

2 Stressed Minds- M.S

summary: y/n, a current college student, is caught up with studying before her finals start. and she's stressed to say the least. matt and his brothers make a mess as they filmed their video and y/n promises to clean the mess, what happens when a stressed out matt gets home and the mess isn't cleaned up?

cw: angst, crying, yelling, stress, fluff

an: thank you to the lovely @monroesturnns for the idea

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"That's one class done." Y/n sighs as she closes her book and moves all of her notes for that one class to the side. She blinks a couple of times as she closes out all of her tabs, opening new ones for her other class. She had now been studying for about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, she was stressed out of her mind as finals were coming up really quickly.

"Hi, baby. We're about to start filming the video." Matt comes through the opened door of their shared bedroom. "Oh okay, I'll be in here still. Studying." She spins on the desk chair to face Matt, rubbing her eyes from all the reading and bright light from her computer.

"Are you sure you don't want to come and watch us film for a bit, get a break from all your studying? You've been cooped up in here for almost two hours. You need a break." He takes a couple of steps towards her and he rubs her shoulders as she looks up at him.

"As much as I would love too, I want to get all of this reading and writing studying done before tomorrow since I'm going to do all of my lab studying tomorrow on campus." She sighs in relief as Matt massages her tense shoulders. "Alright-" Matt gets cut off by Nick yelling. "Matt, come on!" Y/n giggles.

"I'll be back in a bit, want me to shut the door? We're gonna be pretty loud." He kisses her forehead. "Please." She says. "Okay, don't stress yourself out. You'll do prefect on your finals." He reassures her, he knows how anxious and stressed out she's been since finals are getting closer and closer. "I'll try not to."

Matt soon leaves the room and quietly shuts the door. Y/n turns back to the desk and opens yet another book for her next class. "Fucking hate this class." She mumbles to herself, grabbing her pen to start writing notes. Soon enough she starts hearing the loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was really close to her and Matt's room. She didn't mind it, in all honesty it helped her more knowing that they were having much more fun than she was made her study faster so she can try and catch them and watch them for a bit.

Unfortunately by the time the triplets finished filming their video, she was only half way through her studying for the class she had started on when the boys started filming. "Still studying?" Matt closes the door behind him, she didn't even hear him opening the door, to focused in her work. "Hey, didn't hear you come in. And yes, unfortunately. I still have three more classes to study for." Y/n puts her pen down, taking a mini break.

Matt takes a seat in the unmade bed, Y/n usually has done every morning after they get up but this morning she had to meet up with one of her classmates and share some notes from class, "We're going to head out to the warehouse, the merch got there so we can start packing and sending out orders." He says, frowning at Y/n's tired face. She had light under eye bags, looked a bit pale and her lips were red from the excessive biting.

"And we probably won't be back until late at night." Y/n nodded. "Oh okay, I'll probably be asleep by the time you get here, I'm exhausted and I'm still not finished." She sighs. They keep a conversation for bit until Matt realizes it's time to go. "I'll see you tonight, okay? I love you." He gives her a kiss on the lips. "I love you more."

Y/n took a break from studying after the triplets left and decided to order herself some lunch. When she got the notification that the food had arrived, she quickly ran out to get it, not paying any mind to the state of their home. She ate, tossing the trash in the trash can they had in their room and went back to studying.

Sometime between four and five in the afternoon, Y/n's phone buzzed causing her to wake up lifting her head up from her book, grabbing her phone still half asleep.

matt<3

hi baby, i know this is too much to ask for but can you clean the kitchen for us? we're having people over tomorrow around ten to film a video. thank you sooo much. i love you! be home soon :))

Y/n, too tired to read any more words, just replied with a simple okay even though she didn't know what she was saying okay to. She got comfy, resting her head on the desk once more and took another nap. It to have been thirty minutes later because it was now 5:39pm and she gasps looking at the time. "Shit- why'd I sleep for so long?" She pulled up her third class' study guide and got back to what she was doing before.

Three hours later, Matt was finally home. As he walked through the door he went up the stairs and was met with the same mess in the kitchen. "What the hell? I thought she was gonna clean it up?" He said angrily, running a hand across his face. "Matt, it's okay. She's-" Nick started but Matt didn't care to hear any of it and went to their joint room and closed the door behind him.

"Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He spoke loudly, causing Y/n to get startled as she didn't hear in come in. "Oh- Matt you're home." She said. "Didn't I tell you to clean the kitchen?" He said once more. "No you didn't?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Yes I did! I clearly sent you a message and you replied with okay." Y/n finally realized that was the message she had received earlier. "Oh my god! I'm sorry, I was half asleep when I saw the message I didn't even read it." Matt grew angrier.

"Were you even studying this whole time I was gone? Or were you busy sleeping?" Y/n is taken back, Matt has never yelled or raised his voice at her. "Hey, what's gotten into you?" She says softly, trying not to rile him up even more. Standing up and walking toward him, she tries to wrap her arm around him but he pushes her arms back to her.

"No, you were here the whole afternoon and couldn't get off your ass to clean the fucking kitchen? Me, Nick and Chris are having people over tomorrow, do you know how embarrassing it is for people to walk in and see the mess?" Y/n starts to tear up. "M- Matt, I'm sorry, I'll go clean it right now, okay? I'll- I'll put my studying to the side." Tears roll down her cheeks. "You couldn't even make the fucking bed? It's the least you could've done! You're useless around here." He yells.

"Matt." She whimpers, sniffling as her tears continue to fall. "Hey, Matt. That's enough." Nick suddenly appears behind Matt. Y/n wipes her tears, not wanting him to see her like this. "Nick, get out. This isn't any of your business." He turns around and looks at him. "You're making her cry! You're doing too much. She's busy studying, she can't just drop everything and do whatever you tell her to."

"Nick, it's okay." She says. "No, Y/n, it's not just because he had a shitty afternoon doesn’t mean he should take it out on you." He looks at Y/n before looking back at Matt. "Chris is cleaning the kitchen, let Y/n finish her studying." Matt doesn't budge. "No, let her clean it. She's done nothing all day." Y/n has had enough. "Are you hearing yourself, Matt?! Do you not see my desk? My fucking eye bags? I've been studying all day!" She motions the desk that's littered with papers, books, notes and her open laptop.

"I- Nick can I sleep with you tonight?" She lowers her voice and looks at Nick. "Of course, let this fool cool down for the night." Y/n grabs the remaining of her notes for her leftover class, her laptop, and phone before heading out the room with Nick.

"I'm sorry about him. Anything he said is not true. He probably hasn't even picked up a broom ever since you went on vacation last year." He tries to lighten up the mood. "Thanks, Nick. Can I use your desk to finish studying?" He nods. "Go ahead, I'm going to go help Chris." He leaves the room, lightly closing the door behind him.

Coming down the stairs and rounding the corner he sees Matt helping Chris with cleaning the kitchen. "Is she- can I go talk to her?" Matt says, tossing away a couple of dirty napkins. Nick shakes his head. "She has so much on her mind right now, try tomorrow." Matt sighs, knowing Nick is right. He had lashed out on her knowing she was already stressed.

The next morning came and Y/n woke up before her alarm in Nicks bed. She yawned, sitting up and stretching. Carefully, she threw the covers off of her and walked to the desk to collect her belongings. Knowing everyone was still asleep in the house, she quietly trodded to the bathroom to use the toilet and brush her teeth.

Quietly entering her and Matt's bedroom she found Matt still sound asleep, fully clothed in the outfit he came home with. Y/n placed her materials in her tote bag so she wouldn't forget them. She picked out an outfit and grabbed a towel so she could take a shower. After her shower she let her hair air dry and did a bit of makeup. Everything she did, she did it as quiet as possible so Matt wouldn't wake up.

She made herself a quick breakfast and once she finished eating, she washed her dish, as always, and entered the room once again to grab her bag and key so she can head out. "Hey, where're you going?" She hears Matt groggily say from their bed. "I'm going to study my lab experiments." Y/n starts to leave the room but Matt quickly gets up and gently grabs her arm.

"Wait, can- can we talk?" Hs says, his eyes still trying to focus on the bright light outside. "Matt, I- I have to go now or I'll be running late in a bit." He frowns. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I understand if you're still mad at me." Y/n gives a sad smile. "I'm not mad anymore or upset. I know you weren't mad over me not cleaning. Nick told me something happened at the warehouse?" He nods.

"We can talk when I get back this afternoon?" She grabs his hand. "Okay, yeah. That sounds good." He smiles. "I love you." Matt whispers. "I love you more." She kisses Matt on the lips. "I'll see you later, okay?"

That afternoon, Y/n returned exhausted from trying to perfect certain chemistry experiments and hearing her professor repeat the same words over and over to her. "It's almost there, just add a bit more of that." He would say and point to a certain chemical. "I'm home." She said loudly, placing her bag on the table. "Hi, baby. Chris and Nick are out." He came out their room, going over to her to place a kiss on her lips.

"Hi, babe. Where'd they go?" She walked to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water. "They went out with the people who came over earlier." He said. "Mm, have you eaten? I can make something really quickly." She walked back over to him throwing her arms over his neck and he holds her waist. "I haven't yet- I thought we could go out for lunch." She nodded at his suggestion.

"Can we talk first?" He said, rubbing her waist. "Sure, let's go to our room?" Matt nodded. In their room, Y/n kicked her shoes off and got comfy. "I want to start off by saying I'm sorry for everything- and I mean everything I said yesterday. I didn't mean a single word. I don't even know why I asked you to clean the table, you were so busy with studying and I know how much it was draining you. I just- half of the merch that came in was defective and we were trying to get in contact with the company who made it and then Chris had mentioned people were going to come to our house I panicked and texted you and then came home stressed out and lashed out on you. I'm sorry, please forgive me? I can promise you I will never ever raise my voice at you." He pulls out a bouquet of flowers and a small bear from out of nowhere and she's stunned.

"I forgive you," She gasps and grabs the items from him. "Thank you baby." She sets them down next to her and goes to sit on his lap. "I think we both need to take a day for ourselves and have a stress free day." She moves the hair out of his eyes. "Can we have it together?" He says. "Of course." She whispers, before placing her lips on his. Seconds later Matt's stomach growls.

"But first let's get you some food and put my flowers in a vase." She giggles.

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junnieverse · 1 year ago

Text

DRUNK - DAZED ➳ ENHYPEN

➙ enhypen's reaction to you not recognising them whilst you were drunk

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

genre: crack, very little fluff

request: " so yk the series u did with the drunk enha not recognizing their partner… u should write about the roles being reversed and their partner is the one that can’t recognize them "

warnings: lowercase intended, mentions of alcohol/drinking, not proofread, jake swears once in his drabble

a/n: thank you for the request anon, here it is! this was a cool idea too so I hope you liked it :)

a/n (2): I also wasn't sure on whether or not to add riki into this one as well but I decided to go for it but riki is not drinking and the reader is legal to drink in the drabble

a/n (3): you can also find my post on enha not recognising their s/o whilst drunk [ here ]

🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !

you had been out celebrating with some friends and jungwon had been their too to make sure you didn't go overboard

what he wasn't expecting was for you to claim to not know who he was when it was time to leave

he wasn't suprised by your drunken behavior but he was taken aback when you asked him to prove he actually was your boyfriend

"If you're really my boyfriend, tell me something only he would know about me?" you interrogate him raising an eyebrow

"You once farted in front of my friends and blamed my dog." he says shaking his head

immediately covering his mouth you shush him feeling embarrassed at the revelation

"I can't believe Jungwon told you, he swore never to say anything." you whisper pouting as he gently removed your hands

"That's because I am Jungwon, now let's get you sobered up."

despite having already known this little secret you still couldn't seem to look Jungwon in the eye until you ran away into your room to go sleep to avoid him

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

you had a night out with some friends and your boyfriend was always the go-to person to call when you got hammered

tonight was unexpectedly different when you saw riki and pushed him away

even your friends would try telling you to sober up so heeseung could take you home but you argued that you didn't know him

"I DON'T KNOW THAT MAN! DON'T FEED ME TO THE WOLVES YOU PUNKS!" you yell out to your friends

he was shocked to say the least because you've never acted this way around him

soon your boyfriend had to step in and he carried you over his shoulder whilst you hit his back

"LET GO OF ME YOU CREEP BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE BECAUSE IF I CALL MY BOYFRIEND HE WON'T GO EASY ON YOU!" you fight as your words came out slurred

despite your pretty weak defence, he oddly found this entertaining

he makes sure to help you sober up and feeds you until you fall asleep

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

you were a mess

jay got a call from your friends that you were crying saying you missed him and so he came over to get you

turns out you were just incredibly drunk and rambling over how perfect your boyfriend was and you 'didn't deserve him'

"I'm right here darling, wanna leave?" jay says rubbing your back as you look at him dazed

"Who are you sir?" you ask sniffling softly as you wipe a tear

he was left too stunned to speak

thought it was just you messing around with him but after he laughed and he say how stoic you were, he realised you were serious

"What, I'm literally your boyfriend, it's me Jay." he says pointing to himself as you shake your head

"No, my boyfriend is way cuter, no offense sir." you tell him taking another sip of your drink

he wasn't sure whether to take your words as an offense or a compliment but he still couldn't believe it

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

jake got a little pouty seeing as you couldn't recognise him

all he wanted was your affection but you wouldn't even touch him, CUDDLE THE MAN BEFORE HE DIES STARVED OF TOUCH

to make matters worse was you tried everything in your power to avoid him thinking you were in danger

poor guy had to chase after you trying to calm you down but to no avail

you'd tried hiding, screaming and even running away but he always came back

"Baby please stop, it's me, Jake. Layla's dad." he tells you making you go into shock

"HOW DO YOU KNOW MY BOYFRIEND'S DOG YOU STALKER?!" you yell at him as you hiccup slightly still drunk

you still didn't believe his words so you decided to call jake for yourself and somehow the phone in the stranger's pocket rang

"YOU ATE JAKE!!" you accuse him pointing at him in horror

"Oh for fucks sakes." he says done with your drunk self

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

he was offended to say the least

"But (y/n) it's me, you're handsome and funny boyfriend. Snap out of it." he says shaking you lightly with his hands on your shoulders

you on the other hand was ready to fight because you couldn't believe this 'stranger' just laid his hands on you

"One more word buddy and I'll throw my shoe at you!" you warn your boyfriend slapping his hands off as you turn to leave

sunghoon was very adamant to get you to recognise him because he was your designated ride home anyway

"Sweetheart it's me, I'm Sunghoon!" he says again getting aggravated

true to your prior warning, you indeed took off your shoe and threw it at him

hoon woke up the next morning with a huge bump on his forehead and you couldn't remember a thing

"Where did you get that bump from baby?" you ask handing him an ice packing having no idea

he still wonders how someone so incredibly drunk had such great aim

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

"CAUSE IIIIII KNOW WHAT YA LIKE BOY!" you sing (more like scream) Hype Boy at the top of your lungs as sunoo directed you into the house

you had a few glasses of wine earlier on after working and sunoo was left in your care having picked you up after a karaoke night with friends

"Thank you for the ride mister taxi man." you tell your boyfriend getting out of the car

he was left very confused because he'd thought it was a joke at first when you got into the backseat and told him your address but he didn't pay much mind to it

"Sir why are you coming into my house." you ask trying to stand up straight to only lose your balance but sunoo was quick to catch you

"I live with you silly, I'm your boyfriend." he explains realising you didn't recognise him

"I already have one, his name is Sunoo, see." you tell him showing him your lockscreen of you and sunoo together

"Okay how about you go to sleep and your boyfriend will be right next to you once you wake up." he tells you gently brushing your hair

true to his words, you woke up to your sweet boyfriend right next to you still not realising he was with you the entire night

🖇️ — 西村力 ; NI-KI !

as hurt as he was seeing you fail to recognise him, part of him also found it adorable

he knew he should've tried to help you sober up but watching you was like watching a patient who'd just gotten their wisdom tooth out and the gas had taken over

"Did you know I'm actually a secret spy, it's a secret but I'm telling you even though I've never met you before." you whisper looking around as if not wanting anyone to hear you

he would simply play along because he found this extremely entertaining

and this would be great content as birthday exposure

"And I have this super tall boyfriend, he's nine feet tall now." you say proudly not realising how ridiculous you actually sound

"You kinda remind me of him, only difference is you're much shorter... and he's way more handsome." you tell him mumbling the last part but riki caught on

it stopped being funny after you had made fun and complimented him at the same time and he realised you needed to stop with the drinks

he couldn't believe you were complimenting another man right in front of him... it was him but that's not the point-

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nymph-ette111 · 26 days ago

Note

What if Jeff, EJ, Toby, Masky, Hoodie, and Ben (separately) found Y/N silently crying? Would they help or try to calm down Y/N?

That's it, sorry if I chose too many creepypastas ❤

I hope you have a great day/night!!

(I love your writing style aaaaah! Luv ya >< )

Sorry if I sounded cringe ;)

WARNINGS; JEFF BEING AN ASSHOLE LIKE USUAL/TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MENTIONS OF A DECAPITATED BODY

AUTHOR'S NOTE; NO ONE HERE IS CRINGE!! and I love you too <3 was giggling and kicking my feet writing masky and hoodie's part LOL

TOBY;

-the first thought that comes to his mind is that somebody caused this.

-may be a bit rough when asking what's wrong, because like I mentioned before, he just jumps into the conclusion that it's someone else's fault.

-Toby is a little... impulsive when it comes to solving his problems, always going the aggressive route.

-basically what I'm trying to say is that he is willing to chop up someone's body if they did something bad enough to make you cry.

-he will pry the information out of you, whether you want to or not.

-he doesn't realize that this makes things worse for you :( let's be realistic, imagine crying to your boyfriend because someone bothered you just for him to leave and come back covered in blood holding the head from said person's decapitated body.

-he'll even try to hug you, not caring if he is covered head to toe in blood, not caring if the smell was overwhelming your senses. he'll get upset if you refuse his "affection" and "comfort". sometimes Toby's thinking is... hard to understand.

-99% chance you're going to throw up from the sight alone. what I'm trying to say here is Toby's attempt at making you feel better is nowhere near what it's supposed to be.

-but if that wasn't the case and your crying was because of something else like an insecurity, just the overall stress of your day, basically anything that doesn't involve another person he'd be less aggressive.

-wouldn't really know what to say so he'd just go for physical affection and hope that it works.

-now this part depends on you since not everyone likes physical touch when upset. if you don't mind it then he's going to hold you until you feel better. if you don't he'd respect your wishes but he won't leave, even if you ask him to.

-would kiss away your tears one hundred percent.

-i'd give him about... 7/10 less if he brings back a corpse with him but the physical affection is nice :)

JEFFREY:

-love how your relationship is hanging on by a thread.

-it's surviving off of hopes and prayers bro.

-Jeff believes that he should be the only one who can make you upset in any way shape or form. I'd say he doesn't take the idea of someone else making you feel bad very lightly.

-not even in a "oh, someone made my partner upset! not on my watch!" he's just offended because it feels like someone took his place or something.

-yeah did I mention he's toxic as fuck.

-i honestly don't know how he'd react... contrary to popular belief I don't think he'd go out of his way to kill somebody because they made his partner upset like Toby would. in Toby's case it's out of pure love obsession and the need to please you. in Jeff's case he'd probably kill for his own benefit which I mentioned before, someone taking his place.

-fuck it he'd probably kill the person just to torment you, he enjoys that shit.

-however if it's your own feelings regardless of what it is, he'd pretend to not care.

-i think I somewhat implied it in my "stretch marks" post that he doesn't know how to handle his partner's emotions. insecurities or not, big chance he won't do anything, probably throw an insult or two just to make you feel pathetic.

-damn I don't think any fluff post with Jeff would work.

-how can this motherfucker even be nice.

-and if you're asking, no he would never break up with you. you boost his ego a little too much and he doesn't want to lose that.

-he doesn't want to admit it but he's attached to you to a certain degree.

-i'd give it... why are you even reading this it's an obvious 0/10

EYELESS JACK;

-im torn between making EJ the feral demon he is or making him more... human.

-i think I lean towards the more human side when writing for Jack but that might change in the future. expect all of my headcanons to change since I'm still trying to figure this out. even for his personality.

-i should make a poll for that... ANYWAYS

-regardless of the reason, he'd react pretty much the same way.

-he's so sweet and comforting it's actually insane :(

-he's naturally awkward but the voice, the way he weighs and genuinely considers his words before speaking, trying to find the best way to make you feel better can make anyone instantly fold I'm TELLING YOU.

-bro sounds smart and is smart just the way he talk to you is enough to make you move on from whatever had happened.

-intelligent men are so

-head scratches after he's done giving you his advice and point of view of the situation.

-my husband<3

-tries to get you out of your room after that, or just include you in whatever so you wouldn't think about it again. like offering to invite you to the infirmary, there's always an extra seat for you there :)

-i might be biased but 9/10

BEN;

-i've said this before and I'll say it again, does not know how to comfort people. especially ones he cares about.

-he just... stands at the doorway (or floats, whatever you like)

-if it was another person he laugh at them right away, but considering you're his partner he'd fight the urge for your sake.

-actually he might laugh a bit but if he notices that you're clearly serious about what upset you he'd drop it.

-would download a virus on the other person's devices.

-he thinks it's funny.

-he genuinely tries to make you feel better tho, just doesn't know how :(

-if you're insecure about something then he'd react similarly to my "stretch marks" post and try to convince you that whatever it is about you, it's beautiful.

-might come off as corny tho.

-either way... I'd give him a 5/10 maybe even 6/10 if bullying kids on roblox cheers you up.

MASKY;

-regardless of the reason, he'll ask what's wrong but secretly hopes you don't want to talk about it.

-he is a teen tiny bit awkward.

-kind of like Toby, he goes for physical affection and hopes it's enough to take your mind off of it somehow.

-but the hugs this man gives...

-might as well stay there forever.

-just imagine him holding you tight to his chest, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. a cig hanging loosely from between his lips UGH

-can you tell I'm listening to lana del rey while writing this.

-again he might not offer much in terms of... actually saying something to comfort you but his hugs are enough and if they aren't then girl what the fuck is wrong with you.

-i need him.

-i give 8/10

HOODIE;

-another one who relies on the physical affection only because he's a selective mute.

-unless you know sign language.

-unlike masky, instead of a hug you're sitting on this man's lap.

-his mask up to the bridge of his nose, scruff facial hair grown from years of not taking proper care of himself rubbing against your flush cheeks, strong arms holding you tightly against him.

-i genuinely cannot continue writing this so I'm ending it here because another word of describing this man will have me tweaking out 9/10

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autisticgaypirates · 3 months ago

Text

gettin' frisky (NSFW!) (*´ω｀*)

writing this because i'm OVULATING 💜

you guys already know wtf is gonna go down rn

fem!afab!reader, established relationship

obviously nsfw, mdni!!!!!! nothing suuuper freaky but y'know.. you can't have smut without getting your freak on a little

includes zoro, sanji, and ace

zoro ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- not big on foreplay at all, like don't even bother wondering if he'll be a tease because he won't

- oh he loves being dominant..... oh he LOVES it

- always missionary or doggy style, he likes being on top and getting the whole view

- will go even harder if you call him sir or daddy

- tbh? he's kinda a sadist, but not in a seriously harmful or hurtful way

- i mean sadist in a wants-to-smack-your-ass-so-hard-it-leaves-a-handprint way

- even though he's not a very talkative person, he LOVES to talk you through it

- he'll degrade you if you're cool with it, but if you do as he says you'll get a lot of praise

- LOVESSS to finish inside you

- he's not good at the whole aftercare thing, so you might just need to remind him your kinda.. y'know.. dripping his children

you lay beneath him in a mating press with the sound of the creaking bed and deep, heavy breaths in the background. his calloused fingers interlink with yours, pushing your hands above your head to ensure that you have no power. "you little slut, is this what you wanted for so long?" he said deeply, ramming himself inside you even harder than before. his grip on your hands tightens. "huh? huh?? you can't be silent forever. this is my pussy, and you're my bitch, answer me." you let out a high-pitched moan and choke out your next words. "y-yes zoro! it's everything i wanted!" his grip loosens as he smirks, looking down at you like you're his prey. he softens his thrusts a bit, just so he doesn't bruise your cervix. "goooood girl," he coos. "and who's pussy is this?" "yours, sir." he picks up his pace again. "and who do you belong to?" your legs begin to shake. "y-you, sir! i'm yours sir!" he goes full force as your breath hitches, a hungry smile plastered on his face. he licks his lips at you as you make your pretty sounds. "you're doing so good, i'm so close, pretty girl." his jaw hangs open as he lets out soft whimpers that harmonize with your whines as you both finish at the same time. he slowly pulls out as he watches it all pour out of you. he smirks at the sight before looking at you and placing a lazy kiss on your lips. he flops down beside you, an unconscious smile on his face as his eyes begin to flutter shut. "um..." you say, tapping him on the shoulder. he sits up and sees you pointing at your mess. "a little help here?" you say with a laugh.

sanji ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- sanji doesn't fuck, he makes love

- even though he's all over women and seems incredibly perverted, he doesn't care for the idea of hooking up with a random woman

- LOVESS foreplay and taking his sweet time

- very much a switch tbh

- his favorite position is cowgirl, but when he's feeling more romantic and less frisky, he's big on missionary

- BIIIIIIIG mommy kink (when submissive) and praise kink

- he's either whispering sweet nothings in french or screaming your name two octaves higher than his normal voice, no in between

- when he's in control though, it's so intimate and genuine and he loves loving you

- he only cares about you, he doesn't care if he'll explode if he doesn't cum, he'll wait until you're ready too

- as much as he'd love to finish inside you, he's kinda afraid to, so he'll always make sure to pull out right after you're done

- will immediately clean you up and make you tea and tuck you into bed, you're his princess

both shirts were now off, your pants off and on the floor. with sanji above you, he slowly and passionately kisses you, one hand holding him up and the other undoing his belt. after getting his pants off, he hooks two fingers on the edge of your panties that you wear specially for him. he looks up at you with soft eyes. "may i?" he says gently. you nod in response as he pulls them down and off your leg. "même si la mer nous entoure, son scintillement n'est pas comparable à toi," he whispers, slowly spreading your legs open. he leaves gentle kisses along your soft thighs before reaching your womanhood. he kisses it deeply, just grazing over your clit, before dipping his tongue in and having a taste for himself. his refusal to break eye contact with you as he eats you out drives you crazy, and he knows it. when you ever so slightly begin to feel your high, he pulls away. "merci, belle," he tells you, aligning his shaft with you. he slowly pushes himself in, making both of you let out a groan of pleasure. he bites down on his lip hard as he grips the sheets beneath you. he begins to move slowly, looking into your eyes lovingly. you do the same back, letting out a quiet whimper with each thrust. he gently places a hand on your stomach, brushing it across your body and all your curves in admiration. his hand ends up on the side of your face, cupping it. he leans in close to your ear. "you are love. we are an art, mon amour." he plants a kiss on your temple before picking up his pace, going a little harder. with a consistent rhythm and floods of sweet nothings, sanji is finally starting to reach his climax. "i love you," he whispers before going full force on you. his eyes hardly ever leave yours, and if they do, they're admiring the sculpture in which your body was crafted into. "i love you," you whisper back, breathily. "i love you," you say a little louder. "i love you sanji, fuck, i love you!" you borderline yell your admiration for him as you come down from your high, sanji's pace settling. he pulls out and finishes on your stomach, truly believing you two created a masterpiece. "i love you. i'll be right back," sanji tells you before throwing a towel around his waist and leaving the room. you already know where he's going. he's grabbing a damp rag to clean you with, a cup of your favorite tea, and running you a hot bath with your favorite scented candle. this is what making love really means.

ace ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- i'm gonna be so honest, he's so unserious about literally everything

- like you'll whip your tits out and this man will go "WOWZA!"

- he very much likes when you give him head beforehand, it gets him hard, hot, and ready

- very much dominant, but that's just because he's so passionate and so excited that he just wants to get going

- he LOVESSS doggy style, he's very much an ass man (he loves your face equally though don't worry) and he loves to smack your ass

- he's not huge on the romantic aspect and very much himself even in the bedroom

- very very chatty, loves to hear the changes in your voice and REALLY loves when you can't even speak

- when you think he's giving his all, girl not even close you just got started

- he'll compliment you on EVERYTHING, idk he kinda has this thing where he just needs to talk to you

- will ALWAYS ask if you want him to cum in you or pull out, and if you don't answer, he pulls out and cums on your ass

- aftercare with ace is so fucking funny because he'll talk about it like a sports event

you were on your knees in front of him, his shaft now covered in your saliva. he brushes his hand down your hair. "good job baby," he coos. you look up as he smiles down at you. "i'm ready for ya," he says with a smile. you stand up to an immediate smack on the ass. "c'mon pretty girl, ass up for me, i can't wait much longer," he tells you eagerly. you crawl onto the bed, ass up as you rest on your elbows. another smack, this one harder than the other. you let out a small whimper. "what a pretty sight for me," ace says under his breath, squeezing your ass and placing the tip along your slit. "a pretty pussy and nice, big ass on a beautiful girl." you suddenly feel his length push inside you, causing you to let out a yelp. he starts rocking back and forth, slow but hard. you feel his hands grip your hips to pull you up higher. each thrust makes you let out a noise of delight. "pussy is so good babe, and it's all for me?" ace asks you sweetly. "yes, yes all for you," you mutter, somehow already choking on your own words. he gives your ass another hard smack. "thank god," he mumbles before going harder into you. the wooden bed beneath the two of you is loud, and it almost feels unstable. "oh god... ah yeah," ace says, going even faster than he did before. "ohhh fuck yeah, you love it when i fuck you hard like this, huh?" "i- i fuck- i fucking love it!" "yeah? you love me, too?" "yes, yes, i- i love you, ace!" he keeps his speed but rams into your even harder. you can't speak at this point. you're yelling his name and letting out choked moans. "i love you so fucking much.." ace says with gritted teeth. "i love you, i love this pussy, i love this ass, i- gah, fuck! in or out?" "i-in!" the two of you are yelling at each other at this point. "oh god, oh god i'm cumming, mm fuck i'm cumming babe!" ace releases everything he has inside you, and the feeling of his length twitch right on your g-spot is enough to bring you to your climax as well. he slowly pulls out with a hiss, watching it all pour out of you. "damn... we did good," he says with a laugh. he grabs the towel nearby and cleans you up to the best of his ability. when he's done, you lower your hips onto the bed and flop down on your back as he crawls over to lay next to you. "have you like..." ace begins to ask. "... been doing squats lately? i always knew you had a great ass but-" "ugh, ace really?" you say with a laugh. "it's true! and y'know what, i found out that i really like when you tell me you love me during all that." you laugh and place a kiss on his forehead. "noted."

ok so this was insane lowkey and i did NOT expect to write that much for sanji but shit happens when you have a uterus

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fanfiction #zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader

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rafesslxt · 6 months ago

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Hii! I am so addicted to your writing! It keeps my heart warm ^^

So I work in a flower shop and I was wondering if you could make anything on Mattheo x florist!reader, mostly fluff where they get to know when he and maybe theo was there looking for something for theo’s gf or like, and he met reader.

Love your work again 💞💞

[that makes me really happy to hear, thank you love. hope you enjoy and imagined it something like that 🤍]

🌻 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 | 𝐦.𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

「 ✦ fluff, fem!reader, different house!reader, mattheo falling in love at first sight, mattheo sending reader her fav flowers + English is not my first language + not proof read yet✦ words: 2,5k 」

It was a beautiful Saturday today with the sun shining through the windows and the opened door to the little flower shop I work in besides school. A lot of people came in today, buying flowers for their loved ones, alive or passed.

Even tho it made my heart happy to see all these people buying flowers for their partners, I couldn't help but wonder when someone will buy me my favorites.

"Hey y/n, I'm gonna take my break since it's a bit calmer now. Can I leave you alone my dear?" Mrs. Rosewood asked me. She's in her mid 70's and also the owner of the shop, working in here with all her heart and passion. "Of course Mrs. Rosewood. I'm gonna be fine, don't worry." I gave her a reassuring look and a little smile while removing the thorns from our new arrived roses. "Thank you love, I won't be gone for too long."

I continued cutting off the thorns when I heard two young male voices coming into the shop. I put the flowers in my hands to the side and look up, seeing Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle. Of course I know them, who doesn't? Both of them were quite popular in my school, but from another house than mine. Slytherins.

"Dude, just pick some. I bet she won't even mind which one's as long as it's some flowers." Mattheo groaned at his best friend. "No, I don't just wanna give her something. She's special bro."

I had to smirk at the scene in front of me. It wasn't rare that especially man came into our shop without a clue. I left the counter where I stood and walked over to the,. "Hey guys, can I help you?" I questioned with a soft voice.

Both of their heads turned towards me, just now noticing me. Theo smiled at me and nodded. "Hey uhm – yeah. I wanna buy flowers for my girlfriend and don't know what to get her. I think she doesn't have favorite flowers but I wanna give her something.. special." I saw a light tint forming on his cheeks but I hid my smirk.

"Well I could tell you the meanings of some flowers and you can decide what fits the best for whatever you wanna tell her with them. How does that sound?" he instantly looked a little bit relieved. "Yeah, great. That would be really great."

I started to list some of our flowers we sell with their meanings to it but nothing seemed to fit until after a while I got an idea. "Oh my god wait I have the idea. You could gift her tulips. Each color means something different." "Really? That would be quite special, right?"

I waked him over to our tulips and started to pick some of them out of the vases. "So red means 'deep love' which obviously fits, right? Then we have the yellow ones that stand for 'happiness and sunshine which is perfect for happy occasions. The variegated ones mean 'you have beautiful eyes' because of their beautiful color patterns. The pink ones stand for 'affection and caring'. And last the cream tulips which mean 'I will love you forever.'"

Theodore looks at me impressed and starts smiling. "This is perfect, she will love this! Can you give me three of each please?" I smile back at him and start making a pretty bouquet out of the 15 tulips, adding some cream colored ribbons to the stems.

When I look up I suddenly met Mattheo's eyes, somehow staring into mine. I give him a shy smile and when Theo see's his best friends state he nudged him slightly against his shoulder. He breaks our eye contact and looks down to his feet. Did I do something wrong?

"Here, your flowers. I know your girlfriend will love them." I promise and send him a warm smile. "Thanks again y/n, don't know what I would have done without your help." And with that I give him the bouquet and he pays, leaving a generous tip which I refused to take at first but only took because he told me he would leave it on the door If I wouldn't take it. I have to admit he definitely has charm and I completely understand his girlfriend, but my mind couldn't forget the eye contact I had with his best friend.

I think I never saw Mattheo that quiet, which lets me worry I may have been boring him with all my talking about flowers. But now it was too late anyways to I tried to shake that thought off as good as I could.

The next day I walked through the halls of Hogwarts when suddenly a pretty girl stood in front of me. I think I recognize her somewhere, her necklace gives a hint of her being from Slytherin. "Hey, are you y/n l/n ?" she asks me with a little smile to her lips, tilting her head to the side a bit. "Yeah that's me, is everything alright?" I asked her kind of worried that maybe I am in trouble.

"No I just wanted to thank you. I am Theodore's girlfriend and he gave me the flowers he bought in your shop. He told me you helped him and I just wanted to tell you how much I loved them." A bright smile formed on my lips now and I nodded. "Oh I'm happy you liked them that much!" "Yes, especially the meaning behind the so, thank you again. I guess I will see you around." she politely comments. "Yeah, see you around." With that she walked away again and left me with a smirk on my lips. I'm alway's so happy when I see the reactions of the people that get gifted by our flowers.

Another day went by, the weekend over which meant I had to get ready for classes again. With a good mood I woke up my best friends which I shared a dorm with together and changed into my school uniform. First class today was Transfiguration.

I sat down next to my best friend Blair, waiting for the professor to start the lesson. "You remember when I told you that mattheo and Theodore were in my shop? I forgot to tell you that Theo's girlfriend came to me yesterday and thanked me for helping him with the flowers." I whispered to her. She turned her head to me with big eyes. "And that's something you just forget to tell your best friend? Where was your mind that you forgot?" she chuckled until she noticed my pink cheeks. "Oh my god, are you still thinking about Riddle?" Now my eyes had gone wide. "Shhhh –"

"Please open your books on page 286." Professor McGonagall started the class, just right on time so I wouldn't have to hear Blair try to tell me what a huge crush I developed in two days for him. Which isn't true I mean.

We were in the middle of class when someone knocked on the closed door. All heads turned towards it, inclusive Professor McGonagall's who spoke, "Yes, please?" The door opened and a younger boy from Slytherin, I guess from year 4 maybe, walked in with the biggest bouquet of sunflowers I've ever seen in my entire life.

"Wow.." I breathed out, stunned at the sight in front of us. Sunflowers were my absolute favorite flowers since I was a little kid and my dad planted them in our garden.

"Uhm – I'm sorry to interrupt your class Professor but.." I saw him gulping and had to swallow down my laugh. He looked so nervous under her arched brows and surprised face. ".. I was send to deliver these flowers to y/n l/n. It's a gift." What?

Now all heads turned to me, away from the boy. He walked over to me and handed me the bouquet, rushing out of the classroom. "Who the hell send these to you?" Blair gasped and gawked at all the flowers. " I - I don't know." I stuttered still too stunned to speak.

I met the gaze from McGonagall who's corners of her lips slightly turned upwards before she told the class to concentrate again and dismissed me to bring the bouquet to my room.

On my way out I smelled the, my heart instantly turning warm. Who could have send them to me? Who would know they are my favorites? I never told anyone beside my family and Blair. Was this a mistake? Oh god, a prank even?

I rushed to my dorm where the next surprise waited for me when I opened the door. What the –. At least a hundred of sunflowers were spread all over my dorm. On the beds, on the tables, nightstands, some even on the ground in white vases. Tears started to form in my eyes. Who could have done this? And how?

I mean, I wasn't even away for an hour. A half maybe? I stepped inside slowly, careful to not run over any of the flowers. The whole room smelled like them now, even with the opened windows. I think I've had never seen something so beautiful like this. I looked for any sign, a letter maybe.

Then, I found one on my nightstand. It was a little card. I opened it and read

" The most beautiful part is, I wasn't even looking when I found you."

I turned the letter around. But nothing. No sign of who's behind all of this. I took out a new vase of my own and put the flowers in my hand into it. Why is he keeping it a secret who he is?

A few days went by and I found myself working in the shop today again. The last time I was here, was when I helped Theodore. "Good afternoon." I greeted Mrs. Rosewood who already prepared some flowers. "Oh hello dear, good to see you. How are you?" I'm good, how about you? Lot's of people today?" She turns back to the flowers in her hand and answers, "No not really, I already thought about giving you a day off because I really don't know how to entertain you today."

"Ah you know I could always help preparing flowers." I chuckled, while grabbing my apron. "Hm no I'm already done with them. really dear, take a day off. And maybe spend them with your new boyfriend." she smiled at me. Boyfriend? What?

"Mrs. Rosewood, I don't have a boyfriend?" She turned to me again with a surprised look on her face. " Oh really? Then who was the boy in here ordering all these sunflowers for you?"

My jaw almost hit the floor. She know's who bought them for me? "What? You know who he was?When was he here?" I asked her eager.

"Oh it was a young boy in your age. He asked me what your favorite flowers were and what the meaning of them were. I told him Sunflowers, that's right. Right?" "Y-Yeah they are but- who was he? How did he look? I received them through someone else and all over my room but to the letter were no initials."

"Ah he had brown curly hair, brown eyes. He looked really handsome. Oh I forgot his name. Max? Matthew? Oh! Mattheo! His name was Mattheo." she smiled brightly at me while I felt all my color vanishing from my face.

Was this really a joke? But who would do this for a prank? Then a normal bouquet would have been enough. "Are you sure it's from him?" "Yes, yes I am. he was in here Saturday with his friend too while I took a break. I saw him from the other side of the street, I remember."

My heart pounded so fast in my chest I feared it crawling out of my mouth. Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle. He send them to me.

She must have seen my face because she smiled at me again. "You have a free day my dear, go talk to him." I let out a deep breath, nodding. "I - I will. Thank you so much!" And all of a sudden I couldn't stop smiling.

I almost ran towards our school, looking for the brunette boy. God where should I start looking for him? Then without really thinking about it, I walked towards the common room of the Slytherins, sporting just the person I needed right now.

"Pansy!" I almost shutout through the hall and jogged towards her just when she wanted to walk inside her common room. "Y/n? Did you already figure out it was- " "Yes, yes I did. Can you tell me where he is?" "He's inside. Should I tell him you're waiting here?" "Please, and thank you Pansy." She smiled at me and nodded her head. "No problem."

I felt like throwing up while waiting for Mattheo. Again my heart almost jumped out of my chest when he finally stepped out of his common room. He seemed nervous and scratched the back of his neck.

"Hey y/n." he nearly whispered, standing right in front of me now. "You.. send the flowers, right?" I asked him with so much hope in my voice. He nodded, a shy smile forming on his lips. "It was me, yes. Did you like them? The lady in the store told me Sunflowers are your favorites so I guessed you- " Without letting him speak his full sentence, I crashed into him and hugged him tightly, my head just reaching his chest.

"I loved them, thank you Mattheo. They are so beautiful. Nobody did something like that for me like, ever. The k you so much." I murmured against his clothes, my eyes welling up again.

He wrapped his arms around my body and looked down at me. "So, you're not disappointed that they are from me?" he softly asked. "What? How could I me disappointed at that? I have the biggest crush on you since -" I stopped myself when I realized the words coming right out of my mouth.

I slowly looked up into his teasing smile. "Hmm, a crush yeah?" my cheeks probably turned red like a tomato. he placed a hand on my cheeks and stroked it lovingly with his thumb. "I was so stunned when you offered Theo your help. I couldn't believe I never saw you before in school. I was so utterly falling in love that-"

Now he was the one who stopped mid sentence and I looked at him shocked. "Love?" He licked his lips and gulped before nodding slowly. "Yeah.. love at first sight or.. something like that. The told me it's called like that."

I couldn't believe my ears. Or my eyes. Was this really happening? "So, would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked me, still stroking my cheek. "Of course, I'd love to actually." I giggled, still wondering If this all was just a dream too good to be true.

[I feel like the ending kinda sucked but I couldn't do better right now, damn.]

thank you guys for reading, let me know how you liked it in the comments if u want to 💛

xoxo sarah <3

other info:

sunflower divider is by: @saradika 🌻

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